


Glacial

by transparencydisparity



Series: The Umbrella Academy : Glacial [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Child Abuse, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, I own nothing but my OC, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Slow Build, Slow Burn, With a bit of Divergence given there's an OC involved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25685110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transparencydisparity/pseuds/transparencydisparity
Summary: Her parents said she was a miracle. Her grandparents said she was 'demon-spawn'. It didn't matter for her parents died and none of her family wanted her. Sent to the orphanage and was immediately adopted by Mr. Hargreeves, she was introduced into this dysfunctional family. All she ever wanted was another loving home, now with siblings, something she didn't have before. Instead, she got seven emotionally constipated kids with super powers as her siblings, a 'guardian' who treats her more as an experiment than a child, a robot for a mother and a talking chimpanzee.Season 1 of the Umbrella Academy with Elora Alcott thrown into the mix.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)/Original Character(s), Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)/Original Female Character(s), Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)/Reader
Series: The Umbrella Academy : Glacial [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862560
Comments: 4
Kudos: 107





	1. Mr. Hargreeves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Hargreeves was an odd man. He was cold and distant, but he will give her a home and a family. He accepted her powers and probably will help her understand it. And he was willing to give a lot of money to the orphanage just to adopt her. So, the answer is obvious, isn't it?

**New York City, December 15th 2001**

The Brownstone that was Mrs. Brown House for Children in 9034 Crestfield St. Alfield Heights Brooklyn was a half-way run down of a building. The orphanage wasn’t too bad. All the windows were still in tact and it was relatively clean, with the garden looked like it was maintained. However, the paint clinging to the bricks, that was once would have been a bright red, turned into fading shades of brown. The wooden front door was chipped and the doorknob was rusty.

Such a building did not seem out of place in the neighbourhood. Many of the buildings there were all derelict. Some were even worse than the orphanage. The locals would even say the orphanage might had been a grandeur compared to them. One thing that seemed out place was a sharp-dressed man carrying an umbrella. Mrs. Copperfield, the florist across the street watched as the man came up to the door and rang the bell. Ms. Bertha Brown came out and greeted the man with a huge smile on her lovely face.

“Mr. Hargreeves! Good Morning! You came earlier than we thought. Do come in.”

Mr. Hargreeves looked like what she pictured him to be. Cold and calculating just like his voice on the phone three days ago. He was dressed impeccably with his monocle in place. The man walked beside her with a movement akin to a robot. Measured, with a purpose. Her doubts of having this man adopting one of her precious children doubled. The man didn’t look like he would have made a good guardian, let alone a parent. But he was willing to pay the orphanage more than what was necessary, that she would have had the extra money for not only the upkeep of the orphanage but to repaint the whole building and more. On one condition of course, that the only child he would want to adopt was her.

She led him into a small room with a table in the centre and two chairs on the opposite end. A child no older than 12, who was sitting on one of the chair, looked up and gave them a huge toothy grin. Ms. Bertha couldn’t help but to smile back at the girl. She sneaked a look at Mr. Hargreeves and was utterly unnerved to find the man’s demeanour did not change one bit. The girl’s smile was infectious that everyone would have melt at the sight of it. She felt uneasy that the man beside her hadn’t exhibit any emotions to establish that he is in fact human.

“Hi there! You must be Mr. Hargreeves.” The girl greeted, not at all taken aback by Mr. Hargeeves unfriendly manner.

Ms. Bertha watched as the man took the empty chair. His eyes never leave the girl. The girl, bless her soul, didn’t stop smiling and not at all creeped out. If it wasn’t the calculative look Mr. Hargeeves gave the girl, Ms. Bertha was afraid that the stares meant something lecherous.

“My name is Elora Alcott, Mr. Hargreeves.” Elora said to him. If he wasn’t going to talk then perhaps she should start. A lot of people said she was really good when it comes to breaking the ice. She had that sunny disposition that endeared people.

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Hargeeves. I was really happy to hear you are really interested in adopting me. I’m not here very long but I was interviewed by a potential parents a week ago, so I know that usually this is where you ask me questions to get to know me. Do you want to ask any?” Elora hoped that if she asked him a question, he would talk.

He continued to watch her. It felt like he was assessing her, looking for something out of the ordinary. Elora was afraid that she might exhibit anything that indicated she had the thing. Finally, to the relieves of both Elora and Ms. Bertha, Mr. Hargreeves spoke. He asked her to describe herself. Where and when she was born and who her biological parents were.

“I was born in Paris, October 1st 1989.” She proudly said. Before she continued, Mr. Hargreeves cut her off.

“ _Parlez-vous français_?” He asked.

“ _Oui. Ma mère était française. Nous parlions français tous les jours._ ” Elora beamed. Although she only met her mother’s side of the family once, she was proud of being half-french.

Mr. Hargreeves eyes narrowed and he gestured her to continue. Elora didn’t know whether to continue in English or French. She looked to the side and saw Ms. Bertha mouthed ‘English’ at her, and so, she continued in English.

“My parents were Eric and Celine Alcott. My father was a banker and mother was a ballet dancer. We used to live in Brooklyn Heights before the accident three months ago.” Her smile was dimmer as she thought of her parents.

“Was your father you true biological father?” Mr. Hargeeves asked, followed by an indignant “Mr. Hargreeves!” that came from Ms. Bertha.

Elora narrowed her eyes at him. She was suspicious of his motivation to adopt her. The circumstances around her birth was unusual. Her parents were childless for many years and so, when she was born, however odd it was, she was deemed a miracle. It was later proven how much of a miracle it was when her abilities shown up. It didn’t diminish her parents love for her. It didn’t make them want to send her to an institution where she would be tested and examined. It made them even more protective, not wanting their child to be taken away.

“Why would you ask me that question, Mr. Hargreeves?”

“My reason is my own. Although, I’m starting to think you already know.”

“Mr. Hargreeves!” Both the man in question and Elora turned to Ms. Bertha as she spoke. “I am afraid I have to stop you right here. Given the way you were acting, I think that you aren’t quite suitable—“

“I will pay you double the amount we agreed on if you let us continue and you leave the room as we do.”

As Ms. Bertha was about to protest, Elora turned to her and asked her to leave the room. She knew how much this man would pay just to adopt her. From the very beginning, Elora was willing to be adopted by this man, even though she had met a nice couple before him and was supposed to be adopted by them instead. The money provided by this man could help Ms. Bertha. She could repaint the building and maybe fixed the 3rd floor bathroom that had been out of order way before she was sent there. Ms. Bertha had been kind to her. She deserved the money.

As Ms. Bertha complied, Elora turned to Mr. Hargreeves. “My mother gave birth to me on October 1st 1989 without being pregnant for 9 months before. It’s weird but it gets weirder when I grew up and started to show my… powers. Was that what you wanted to hear, Mr. Hargreeves?”

“Perhaps, a proper demonstration is in order.”

She nodded, hesitating a bit. Mr. Hargreeves was unnerving but he seemed to know that she was special and so, wouldn’t be shocked and wouldn’t hurl insults such as “demon-spawn” like her extended family did the one time she met them. She closed her eyes and concentrated. When she opened them, both the irises and the pupils turned icy blue, almost white. Frost trail made a path from the corner of her eyes to her temple. The temperature of the room they were in dropped significantly low.

Mr. Hargreeves face turned from evaluating to that of fascination. She even saw a bit of smile on his face. It was a look of victory, she supposed. It was rather odd to her that Mr. Hargreeves didn’t flinch when it was really cold in the room. Perhaps he could stand the cold, she reckoned.

She closed her eyes again, and everything went back to normal. The room was warm again. And when she opened her eyes, they were the usual hazel with black pupils in the middle. Elora hoped the cold stayed in the room. She didn’t want to freak out Ms. Bertha. None of the residents in the orphanage knew anything about her more distinctive features. And she would like to keep it that way.

Mr. Hargreeves took out a red leather journal with ‘R.H.’ initial on the cover. He turned quite a lot of pages before writing something down. Elora guessed that he had options of children he wanted to adopt and supposedly the book was to keep in track of all the children and their specialties before choosing which he would adopt. Mr. Hargreeves seemed to be delighted of her demonstration, or close to it, so she was quite confident he would write something nice about her and chose her to be adopted.

She was immediately disheartened however, for he stood up and left the room soon after he closed his book and tucked it back into his coat. Never was she wanted to be adopted by him more. Other than the money he offered, Elora wanted a parent who would understand her unique circumstances and accepted her for it. Mr. Hargreeves wasn’t really giving out ‘warm and parental’ vibes but she was positive he would warm up to her sooner or later. People are like that in the books anyways. She guessed the previous couple would do. She hoped they wouldn’t freak out and immediately called the government on her when she accidentally let loose her powers.

Ms. Bertha came in shortly with an uneasy smile on her face. Elora knew immediately that she wasn’t going to be adopted by him. However, she soon smiled to what Ms. Bertha said next.

“Mr. Hargreeves said he will come pick you up tomorrow afternoon at 2. He said you should be ready outside by that time.”

“Really? He wanted to adopt me? I thought for sure I botched the interview. He didn’t show any sign that he wanted to adopt me.”

Ms. Bertha nervously chuckled, “He didn’t show any sign that he was an excited parent-to-be meeting his kid.” Or the fact that he was a freaking human-being that could emote, Ms. Bertha thought. “Which reminds me, are you sure you wanted to be adopted by him? He didn’t seem very…” _Human._ “… friendly.”

Elora smiled warmly at Ms. Bertha. “I’m sure. He understood an aspect of me that I think no other potential parent would. I’ll be fine, Ms. Bertha. Who knows? Maybe when I visit you in the future, he’ll warm up to me and he’ll smile a lot more. I have that effect on people.”

“Alright then, if you’re really sure.”

“Positively sure!” Elora beamed at her.

Ms. Bertha’s uneasy smile came back. Sometimes Elora was too naive for her own good. Perhaps it was the optimistic side of her that caused it. She was unsure of Mr. Hargreeves and was afraid for the girl. The way he was acting was a big red flag. But Elora wanted to be adopted by him. She hoped that the girl knew what she was doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elora Alcott has always been on my mind after I watched Season 1 of The Umbrella Academy a year ago. I generally avoid writing fan fictions, preferring to read them instead, but Season 2 of The Umbrella Academy gave me the juice I need for this fan fictions. I would like to preface that Elora Alcott's back stories are all thought of before I watched the Season 2 of the Umbrella Academy. I need people to know this as I write and hopefully finish this story.
> 
> Anyways, did you enjoy that? Hopefully you do. English is my second language so please excuse the grammatical errors.


	2. Number Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her mother did say she was too naive. Too trusting. In her defence, Pride and Prejudice taught her never to judge someone based on their first impression. She wished she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Child Abuse! Not physically, but I still wanted to put this warning out there.

**The Umbrella Academy Mansion, December 16th 2001**

Standing before the mansion Mr. Hargeeves said to be her new home, Elora couldn’t help but to stop and stare. Millions of thoughts went through her mind. She was excited of course, this was what she wanted after all. A family, a real one this time. The orphanage was great, and she supposed she could have been used to it and even considered it a family in its own way, if it weren’t for the fact that she had tasted what it felt like to have a family in a more traditional way. Parents and a house, with so many memories of just the three of them. She wanted that again and this time with an added bonus where the parent would help her understand her gifts, given how fascinated Mr. Hargreeves to her power was. She was also nervous. It was an awkward journey on their way to their home. Mr. Hargreeves had spoken very little to her on their way here. The fact that he spoke at all was only because she asked him a couple of questions. First, she asked him about what their home life was going to be. He said he lived with seven other children, a caretaker named Grace, and Pogo. When she asked who Pogo was, he remained silent. She didn’t ask anymore questions about Pogo afterwards, thinking that Mr. Hargreeves would tell her if he wanted to. Also, she would live them anyways, and she could see for herself who they were.

However, she asked him about the other seven children, what their names were and if they have powers like her as well. Mr. Hargreeves answered with a short ‘Yes, they do’. Before she could ask anymore questions, Mr. Hargreeves told her that ‘many of your questions shall be answered when we arrived, for now blessed silence is more than welcome.’ Elora wasn’t a really a genius, but she knew that he basically wanted her to be quiet. At least, he wasn’t shouting ‘Shut up’ at her. The few questions he answered didn’t give her any reassurance however. In fact, after hearing that he had other seven children living with him, she became more anxious. Would they like her? She hoped they would. It would’ve been fun to have a loud house again, like it was back in the orphanage. She was an only child before being sent into the orphanage, and it was quite a shock when she saw how rowdy the orphanage was compared to her previous home life. But, she got used to it and even liked how noisy it got. Sometimes, it distracted her and kept the sadness away.

“What are you doing standing there, girl? Come inside and meet the others.” The voice of Mr. Hargreeves brought her out of her musings. She quickly nodded and made her way inside.

The interior of the house reminded her of that old library she went to in London with her parents. Although, the library was much more brighter. The house was dimmed, with little light illuminating silhouettes of the furnitures. It was also very quiet. Too quiet for a house with seven children to live in. There was no warmth whatsoever. Overall, the house looked dead. And that unnerved her. She felt an unwelcome foreshadowing of what might be her new home life.

“Welcome home, Master.” A voice with an accent said beside her. She let out a loud scream as she turned to the source of the voice. A chimpanzee, dressed in a suit, glasses on, and had a greying hair stood beside her with a cane. It was standing, it wasn’t crouching like a primate would do. And did she hear it talked just now?

“If you’re wondering who Pogo is,” Mr. Hargreeves gestured to him, “there he is.”

“It just talked.” She said, fear evident in her voice.

“And you are a Cyrokinetic. One would think that a talking chimpanzee wouldn’t be much of a shock for someone who possesses gifts to manipulate ice. After all, a chimpanzee has a potential to be more advanced than you think.”

It was true, these things shouldn’t shock her. Perhaps it was the days spent pretending to not have such gifts that made her see these things to be extremely out of the ordinary. While her parents loved her and accepted their daughter to be gifted, they didn’t want anything to do with her powers. They called her their miracle, but said miracle could attract the government or other entities to take her away. Her parents recalled that once upon a time, a few days after she was born, an old man had asked to _buy_ her from her parents. Her parents of course adamantly refused such offer. They never talk about the man ever again. The fear of having the one thing they’ve always wanted to be taken away, made them decide that such gifts, however much of a miracle it was, should be kept hidden. After cutting ties with extended families and changing their last names, they were going to start anew. They were _normal_ family consisted of _normal_ people, and her parents wanted that to remain forever.

Elora composed herself, and stepped up to Pogo to extend her hand in greeting. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Pogo. My names is Elora. I am so sorry for the way I reacted.”

The chimpanzee gave her a warm smile, something she didn’t expect, given he probably was like a minion to Mr. Hargreeves, thus the extension of himself. He extended his hand, and both of them shook hands in greeting.

“Where are the rest of the children? I thought I told you they were to come downstairs and wait in the foyer for the new addition.” The way he said it, Elora thought, made her more uneasy. ‘Addition’ not a ‘sibling’ felt more like he added another doll to his collection, an item, instead of another child to adopt, a living and breathing human being.

“Of course, Master. They are waiting in the hallway upstairs. Children! Please do come down and meet your new sibling.” Pogo called out in the direction of the stairs in the middle of the room.

One by one, came the children, looked to be the same age as her, in uniforms. They all lined up in front of her in a straight line. She smiled at them, hoping any would reciprocate. None did, to her dismay. They all looked straight ahead, and she felt the way they stood reminded her of the way soldiers stand. Upright and no nonsense. One by one her hope diminished as she saw how very unwelcoming her siblings-to-be were. They didn’t seem to hate her, they were just indifferent. Cold, distant, robotic, with no feelings and warmth that could be associated with humans or at least members of a happy family. The mirror reflecting the idealistic dreams of having a happy family again began showing cracks, and it broke her heart. Was she too naive and stupid to be so hopeful at the very beginning?

“These will be the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy. You will be a part of them.” He proceeded to introduce their names to her. The word ‘names’ would be off to use indeed, as he introduced them as ‘Number One’ all the way to ‘Number Seven’. What kind of parent named their children after numbers? Did he treat them more of an experiment than children. The cold and harsh reality of what was happening washed over her. Her mother was right, she’s too naive. She had too much faith in people. She always believed that the surface never reveal what was inside. She read Pride and Prejudice for heaven’s sake, so she must know never to judge people based on first impressions. A commendable quality it was, but it also might have been a flaw. A flaw she possessed but never be able to reap the consequences because her parents were always there to protect her or to pick up the pieces.

“Children, this is Elora. From now on, she would be Number Eight.” Number Eight? Was she going to be a part of this experiment now? No! Absolutely not!

“I’d rather if we just stick to Elora.” The way Mr. Hargreeves looked at her frightened her so much that she continued, “I mean, I already have a name. It’d be hard to be used to a new one. And I like my name a lot—“

“Be that as it may, but you are a part of the Umbrella Academy now. As such you should want to—“

“No!” She shrieked. She was frightened of him, she really was. But this wasn’t what she wanted. A part of her told her, she should reap the consequences of her action, she should just accepted her fate but another part of her, the louder voice, told her to fight back. Told her to run away from this place, consequences be damned.

“I never wanted this! It feels wrong. This is not a family.” She began to walk backwards, to the door. She was gathering her nerve to run.

“A family?” Mr. Hargreeves scoffed. “Was that what you were looking for? How idiotically idealistic of you, child! Such foolish fantasy you have! I am sure with the right amount of training, I’ll manage to beat that out of your system.”

All nerves gathered, she turned around and sprinted towards the door. Before she could even got close to it, one of the children, a boy with dark hair, stood in front of the door, blocking her path. He didn’t look at her, but his expression wasn’t what it was before. He now looked sad. He gritted his teeth as if he was holding himself back.

“Such insolence, Number Eight!” Mr. Hargreeves said, scolding her mockingly. “I expected this of course, as you weren’t raised with discipline as the others were.”

She was panicking, thinking that she was trapped before an idea came to mind. She concentrated on her powers, channeling them. The temperature of the foyer began to drop significantly low. Before she could further her use of her powers, a tap on her shoulder broke her concentration. She turned around, and was face to face with the one of the girls. A pretty African-American looked at her with a bit of hesitation. She saw the conflict and the sadness in her eyes, before the girl opened her mouth.

“ _I heard a rumour that you will do whatever Father will tell you to do._ ”

What did she do to her? She felt different, somehow. What was she doing again? Oh, she was supposed to use her powers to run away. As she was about to start concentrating again, Mr. Hargreeves addressed her. “Number Eight, go to your room and unpack. You will need all the rest for tomorrow’s training, understood?”

Number Eight? Oh yeah, she was Number Eight. Father said so. Father said she should unpack and rest, and so that was what she did.

**Capital West Bank, 23rd October 2002**

It was quite a cold day for Autumn. However, it did not deter a group of bystanders, curious of the chaos that happened at Capital West Bank. As a reporter called Jim Hellerman said, there was a robbery by a group of heavily armed men that stormed into the bank about three hours ago. The robbery escalated into a hostage situation. The authorities had been called and were in the middle of negotiation with one of the robbers. Things hadn’t been going well. None of them would listen to reason.

Inside the bank, the temperature was much more cooler, cooler than it should have been for a building with a heater, but the hostages were too frightened to be paying much attention to it. They were shoved into two main groups, one near the entrance and another near the vault, all tied up and gagged. One of the robber, the one who were negotiating with police outside through a walkie-talkie, came into the room where the hostages were held, followed by an African-American child dressed in a school uniform and a domino mask on. A few of the hostages, overcame their fears and were perplexed when they saw this child stood beside the robber, like she was supposed to be there. No fear whatsoever on her face. In fact, she looked smug.

The robber turned to her, “Hey, get back with the others!”

The child whispered something inaudible to him, to which he replied, “What? What did you say?”

The girl then spoke up, “ _I heard a rumour that you shot your friend in the foot._ ”

Ms. Felloweather, one of the hostages that saw the exchange, quickly tried to cover herself, as the robber cocked his gun to his fellow robber and shot him in the foot. A few bullets might have hit her, if it weren’t for the fact that a wall of ice stood in front of her, shielding her from the onslaught of bullets. Another child, also a girl with brown hair and pale skin, came into the room, standing beside the girl before.

Elora’s sudden appearance frightened the robber that Allison rumoured. He backed away from the two girls, even though his mind was still reeling from shooting his friend. He didn’t mean to do that. He thought he might have been hypnotised to do so. One moment, he was conscious, then everything went black, then when everything came back, Steve was on the floor, suffering from a gun-shot wound as he cocked his gun at him. What are these kids?

“Almost flawless, Number Three, but you need to be more careful next time. That man could have killed one of the hostages.” Elora scolded Allison.

“You need to relax, Number Seven. Besides, you managed to shield them anyways.” Allison rolled her eyes.

Before she could retort, Luther crashed down from the ceiling and took care of the robber that was standing with the group of hostages near the vault. Elora could hear Allison giggled as Luther slammed the robber’s head to the counter and then threw him forward as he crashed through the window, alarming the crowd that gathered outside the bank. Soon after, Diego arrived with a ‘Guns are for sissies. Real men throw knives’ before throwing two knives and curve them to hit another robber.

“You two competing in making an entrance, huh?” Allison quipped.

Apparently that ruffled Diego’s feathers, as he growled at both Allison and Luther. Luther didn’t pay attention to Diego, only had his eyes on Allison.

“They’re always competing.” Klaus said, as he came in to the room from where Diego was, with Ben. He gave a dazed smile at Elora as she gave him her exasperated look only reserved for Klaus. He’s drunk, it was so obvious. No matter how many times she hid his flasks, Klaus managed to find them.

“In that case, which one won?” Diego asked them. “I mean, not to point out the obvious, but my entrance had more pizzaz. I came in with a witty catchphrase.”

“Ugh, that’s your catchphrase? Seriously? You’re so—“ Allison began before being cut off by the one remaining robber.

“Hey, hey, hey. Just what the fuck are you kids?” The robber got up on the counter as the Allison, Diego, Klaus, Ben and Elora approached him. They all laughed, seeing the terrified look on the man. “Get back you freaks!”

“Hey, be careful up there, buddy.” Diego teased him, earning another terrified ‘Get back now!’ from the man.

“Wouldn’t want you get hurt.” Allison teased him.

Behind him, Elora saw Five appeared. Sitting down, crossed-legged, he looked up at the man with a mocking smirk and said, “Or what?”. The man immediately turned around and shot at what would have been Five if he didn’t immediately spatial jumped. Five appeared behind him, crossing his arms, waiting for the man to notice. The man turned around before cocking what should have been his gun at Five. Elora didn’t see if Five managed to replace the gun with a stapler, but knowing Five, he might have. The man grunted and fell down unconscious as Five rammed the stapler into his head, hard.

Now that the robbers in the main room were taken care of, it’s time they finished the robbers in the vault. Everyone turned to Ben and asked him to finish the deed. Ben, the poor guy he was, looked hesitant. “Do we really have to do this?” He asked them.

“Come on, Ben. There’s more guys in the vault.” Luther persuaded him. Ben looked around and saw his siblings all nodded, with Elora reluctantly doing so.

Ben sighed, “I didn’t sign up for this.” He was about to turn the knob, before Elora shouted ‘Wait!’ That garnered the attention of the rest.

“Let’s free the hostages first.” She said. The underlying meaning was loud and clear. Ben’s powers are horrific. It would have been better for their debut if the first victims they saved weren’t traumatised.

Immediately, all of the Umbrella Academy kids freed the hostages and let them out of the bank. After making sure there were no more hostages left, Ben went into the vault. What happened inside the vault weren’t really clear. All they knew was that Ben unleashed the beast and the robbers inside were taken care of as their bodies hit the glasses of the windows and their blood splattered on them. The beast roared as it did so. A few moments later, after a deafening silence, Ben emerged, covered in blood. He let out another sigh and said, “Can we go home now?”

Elora gave him an apologetic smile, before handing him a handkerchief she fished out of her blazer. He took it gratefully and started to clean up some of the blood off his body. After Ben was partially cleaned, the kids went out and was greeted by flashes of cameras and questions by the press. Their father emerged from the crowd with their scarves and passed them on to them. They all put on the scarves as their father took centre stage.

“Our world is changing.” His voice boomed. “Has changed. There are some among us gifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary.” All of the kids smiled at the crowd. Fake for some of them.

Reginald Hargreeves continued, “I have adopted seven such children. I give you the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy.” With that, questions flooded them.  
“Mr. Hargreeves, what happened to their parents?” Asked one of the reporters.

“They were suitably compensated.” _Or dead_ , thought Elora.

Another asked, “Are you concerned about the welfare of the children?”

“Of course.” Reginald Hargreeves answered. Elora wanted to cringe visibly, but father told her to behave in front of the public, and she couldn’t physically do anything that opposed his orders. In her mind, she wanted to scream at the reporters. She wanted to tell them of how he treated the kids. He didn’t care about them as children. They were mere experiments to him.

“As I am for the fate of the world.” Reginald finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you enjoy that? Hopefully you do. English is my second language so please excuse the grammatical errors. 
> 
> I planned for the next chapter to be where the events of Season 1 of the Umbrella Academy take place. 
> 
> Elora is Number Seven in the public's eyes. But in private, Vanya is Number Seven and she's Number Eight. It would be odd if she was referred to as Number Eight as I think people would ask questions about where Number Seven is.
> 
> Reginald Hargreeves is an abusive asshole and I wouldn't put it past him to do these things.


	3. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'There was something about him that matched her energy even though they are complete opposite. She found his focus, resolve and driven nature very appealing and grounding to her.'
> 
> Elora disappeared 16 years ago and Vanya wonders why her disappearance wasn't mentioned by Five, only Ben's death, when he came back. He read her book, surely he should have been sad that she was gone since he had a crush on her. To her disbelief, Five knew where Elora is.

One of the things that all the Hargreeves children agreed on was that their perspective rooms are their solaces. Their bedrooms were the only things that were out of dear old Dad’s control. Their father didn’t care at all how they decorated their rooms, as long as they were up and out of them first thing in the morning for training. Perhaps he never care to even step foot on the hallway. As such, the rooms represented the Hargreeves children’s different personalities, something that used to baffle Elora. When she first arrived, she thought they were all one and the same. Bland, inhumane, and robotic, very much like their father. When old Reggie was out of the room, the children, though exhibited the same amount of contempt for their father (save Luther and perhaps Allison), were all different personality-wise.

Klaus was carefree, although she didn’t know if it was his personality or it was due to the substance abuse, something she tried so hard to help him with. He was the most vulnerable out of all them for the many times their father put him in the mausoleum to _overcome_ his hesitant to embrace his power. His room was messy because he just didn’t care and there were many flasks and bongs scattered haphazardly. She lost count how many times Mommy would clean it up, only for it to return to its disastrous condition. But it was so Klaus. Out of all of them, his room was the one she visited the most, no matter how much she detested the smell. Fortunately, he never smoke whenever she’s around. Klaus’ room was always open for visitors as he rarely liked to be alone. The visitors that often came were Elora, Ben or Allison. Elora would spend hours talking about nonsense with Klaus as he loved listening to her. Klaus said her voice had always been something that grounded him. They would come up with stories and they would make it up as they go. The stories were utterly ridiculous and hilarious that they would laugh until their stomach was hurting (she wondered though, if the goofiness was truly Klaus’ personality or the drugs’ influence).

Sometimes their laughters could be heard all the way to Five’s room, prompting him to stomp over to Klaus’ room to tell them to shut up because _he couldn’t hear himself think with all these monkey-shrieking_. Elora would be embarrassed and immediately shut up, but Klaus would further rile up Five. Thankfully, it never end in bloodshed. Most of the time, Five would express his concern, in a gruff manner, of the possibility she also partook in Klaus’ nasty habit. He thought all the laughter she let out was because she was under the influence since according to Five, there was nothing funny about Klaus. She assured him that she never did and also told him that Klaus was funny and that he just didn’t get their sense of humour. ( _Or you were just so easy to impress,_ Five once thought).

She was never allowed to spend time in Diego’s room. No one was ever allowed in Diego’s room for a long period of time besides Mommy, so she never felt offended by that. She only caught glimpses of it whenever she wanted to borrow something, in which case, most of the time, he never allow her to). From what little she could see, the room was very much Diego. Dart board was very on brand of course, but what caught her attention was the embroidery Mommy made personally for Diego, framed and perfectly placed on the wall beside his bed. One of the chance for her to at least spend a second in his room, or more accurately in front of the door actually, was when she asked him to help her in physical training. Since she was adopted only a year ago, she was way behind when it came to the physical aspect of their training. Truthfully, coming to Diego for these things was a terrible idea at first. Diego was the least welcoming member of their family. He didn’t trust her and was absolutely rude, easily throwing japes that hurt her feelings. However, he was a good teacher, a bit harsh, but she was learning a lot from him. He warmed up to her more though when he saw her spend a lot of time with Mommy.

During a few of their sessions, Five would come in to watch. She wasn’t always comfortable with Five watching because she didn’t want to embarrass herself if she ever face-plant in one of the sessions (something that did happen, but fortunately when Five wasn’t around). However, Five’s gaze wasn’t judgmental or mocking when she lost her balance or fell. It was always assessing. Turned out, he was analysing her weak points as well as her physical advantages to help her improve. Diego wasn’t really keen in personal assessment as much as Five was. He was more into showing her moves of both offence and defence. Five helped her optimise these moves by pointing out said weak points and physical advantages and giving her alternative ways of the same moves. They never have their own one-on-one though. It was always done after Diego’s session and with Diego still in the room.

Luther’s room was full of records. He liked to listen to them whenever he had his own private workout. Out of all of them, Luther was the one she spent time with the least. It was a bit difficult spending time with Luther since they didn’t really have anything in common. She tried though. She tried to have her own little thing with Luther. Although, not much of a record fan she was, she always borrowed one of his and asked him about it. The least she could do was to listen to him rambling about which one would pump him up during his workout session. As it turned out, the music wasn’t only for workouts but also for dancing. Luther loved dancing and according to him, although they wouldn’t admit it, so did the rest of the Hagreeves children. His record player was quite loud, so the rest of them could hear his music and would often dance to it (in their perspective rooms, of course, didn’t want to be seen by the others). How did he know this fact? Klaus told him, thanks to the ghosts haunting the mansion whenever he was sober enough to see them. At first, he was extremely shy of showing off his moves. Gradually, he became more comfortable of Elora’s presence and she was one of the few people that saw his goofy and dorky dance moves. She would often join in, matching him in ludicrousness.

The first time, Five found out about Elora and Luther’s little dance party, he didn’t take it very well. All he ever could think about was those scenes in Disney movies where the guy and the girl would have a musical number, dance and finally fall in love. The very thought resulted in him storming to Vanya’s room for a very long rant to let out his frustration. Five couldn’t see how someone like Elora would find someone who’s all brawn with no substance like Luther endearing. To which, Vanya thought, since when does dancing together equate to falling in love. She wanted to point this out to Five but apparently Five wasn’t done yet.

“But then again, Vanya, Elora wasn’t one to appreciate intelligence over physical prowess.” That set him off to another long rant. As much as he wanted to paint the picture as him being baffled by Elora’s so-called fascination with Luther, Vanya knew that he was just jealous. But he was Five. Five was a good brother, compassionate and caring, but he was also a bit of an arrogant prick ( _No, not a bit Vanya, he’s definitely an arrogant prick,_ said basically everyone else). He was too prideful to ever feel jealousy, something Vanya constantly felt. When he did feel jealousy, it was foreign and as much as he wanted to mask it, it was too obvious that if Klaus were there, he would have noticed despite being under the influence.

After Five exhausted himself, Vanya pointed out, “Five, they were just spending time as siblings. Did you forget that Luther has eyes only for Allison?”

That cheered him up a bit. Although, it didn’t stop the glares he would send to Luther’s room whenever he could hear the music from his record player.

Ben’s room was the cleanest, with so many books stacked in the shelves. She didn’t enjoy most of his books as they were too serious and ‘grown-up’ for her. Her brother’s room was the only place she ever spent time in being very quiet. Of course, that was because all they ever did was to read from their own perspective books. Unfortunately, they rarely discuss what they read as their books were entirely different. Ben loved to read non-fiction while Elora preferred fictions such as fairy-tales, lores and myths. Few words were exchanged, mostly Elora asking Ben meanings of words she was unfamiliar with. Sometimes, Ben would be so excited about what he read, that he went all ‘Did you know that’ on her. Elora cherished these moments, where his eyes would light up and he had an infectious grin on his face. His enthusiasm was met by hers of course. His little tidbit of information was added into her gallery of trivia, which was growing as she spent more time with him.

Their little book club was often joined by Five. At first, he was puzzled to see her in Ben’s room, reading a book in peace and quiet. It wasn’t exactly the place he pictured her to be in. The girl was vivacious and energetic, never seem to be content in one place at a time. Granted, he was right and Elora would only spend approximately 10-15 minutes (no, Five _most definitely_ didn’t count) of reading, before being bored and leave the room, thus ending the book club. Every once in a while, she would stay to listen to Five discussing his theories with Ben. She never truly understand what they said, but perhaps her basic questions of ‘Why not?’ Or ‘Why this way? Not the other one?’ Helped them gain a new perspectives from time to time. She also benefitted from all these extra knowledge, however trivial it might be for her. Five would never admit it, but he always looked forward to this little book club.

Vanya’s room was the smallest so she had little in the way of decorations. All she ever needed was a stand for her music sheet and a couple of shelves for her books and dolls. She had just enough room for one more person to sit there with her as she played her violin. It was mostly either her or Five. Never together though as Five never want to be there if Elora’s there. Elora never have a deeper understanding to music, thus she couldn’t say she was there to appreciate Vanya’s talent. But Vanya never need someone there to appreciate it. She just needed company, something Elora was more than happy to provide. More often than not, as she finished listening to Vanya’s piece, they would talk about a lot of things. Feeling guilty of seeing Vanya being left out of missions, Elora would spend hours regaling stories about them, sometimes exaggerating a little bit to make it interesting. Vanya would remember how her warm hazel eyes would light up every time she told these stories. Her hands making gestures, dancing around, mimicking Elora’s enthusiasm. Vanya would look on, entranced, possibly imagining herself being a part of the action.

They would also talk about their siblings. Both Vanya and her would express their concerns over Klaus’ addiction, annoyance over Diego’s harsh treatment, and mostly about Five. Out of all the Hargreeves, Vanya was the one Five spent time with the most. An odd pairing, Elora once thought. She would have imagined Five being closest to Ben as they seemed to have more things in common. Vanya would tell her about Five’s theories, to which some she already knew for she also have the privilege of listening to them whenever she had a little book club meeting with Five and Ben. Vanya would also ask, shyly she noted, a lot about what she felt towards Five. That question was quite uneasy to answer. She would pause for a while before giving short answers without more explanation. ‘He’s smart, I don’t know most of the things he said’ or ‘He’s really good in missions. A bit overconfident but perhaps that’s his trick’ were some of her favourite answers. When further inquired by Vanya, she would change topic and Vanya would allow her to do so as she didn’t want to upset Elora.

Allison’s room, in contrast to Vanya, was the most the most spacious. Furnitures befitting of one of Daddy’s favourites, posters of boybands and herself, as well as three small chandeliers very much were what could be associated with Allison. Her closet could have been as big as Vanya’s room, housing beautiful dresses and outfits that Allison let her try on sometimes. They would even put on a small fashion show, with Klaus joining in as one of the models as well and Luther as the judge. Luther would always give Allison 10/10 because he was completely biased even though he said he wasn’t. Sometimes Vanya would become one of the models, but often she was too shy so she opted as co-judge. Vanya as a judge was also a disaster because she would give 10/10 to everyone. Thus, Allison would win almost every time. Other siblings would be invited to join in as both models and judges, and almost all of them would participate from time to time. Diego would join in if he was blackmailed to do so. Ben liked to do it from time to time, but most of the time he wanted his own space, to get away from all the crazies. Five participated exactly one time, and only as a judge. Elora was pleased to announce that she tied with Allison that one time Five became the co-judge for their little fashion show.

Whenever there were just the two of them, they would often talk about boys. For Allison, Luther was the one boy she always talked about. No matter how lengthy the conversation about that one cute fan boy Allison encountered that one time, she would always go back talking about Luther. According to Allison, their relationship was a bit complicated. In a sense, they were siblings for they were raised together, often refer to each other as brother/sister but even then Allison felt like something was off. It was a bit hard for Allison to explain herself to Elora, but Elora understood. She understood having complicated feelings for one’s supposed sibling. She didn’t find it hard to feel familial love for everyone except Five. There was something about him that matched her energy even though they are complete opposite. She found his focus, resolve and driven nature very appealing and grounding to her. Although he was ten times better than her (skills in both physical and mental), for some reason he didn’t look down on her. Well, he did, once upon a time when they first met, but as he gradually got to know her, he too perhaps see something worthy of admiration in her for he began to treat her as equals. Not to mention, the fact that he’s ~~quite~~ physically attractive didn’t help whatsoever. The first time Allison heard her confession, she scoffed. It was truly hard to believe someone so warm and lively as Elora would be attracted to someone who was cynical and arrogant like Five. But who was she to judge? Besides, it was adorable seeing her all flustered whenever they talked about Five.

The one room she never see was Five’s. She didn’t think anyone ever see Five’s room, except maybe Vanya. He never fully open his door, so she couldn’t catch glimpse of it. And she didn’t have the courage to knock and request entry as well. Before these _feelings_ , she found Five too intimidating, so she never had the nerve to visit him in his room. When the feelings came, she would be too flustered if the idea came up, creating a different meaning to ‘being too intimidating’. Too many terrifying scenarios of her accidentally showing her true feelings, only for him to say that he only felt familial love for her haunted her mind. Thus, she never truly had an alone time with him, no matter how much she craved it. However, she cherished the times he would join in on all the moments spent with their other siblings.

**Umbrella Academy Mansion, March 24th 2019**

Vanya finds Five by the fireplace, looking at his portrait. He already changed his over-sized suit into one of the Umbrella Academy uniforms still placed in his wardrobe. Five may be physically present there, but Vanya knows from his eyes that his mind is a million miles away. She walks up to him and that breaks him out of his contemplation. He turns around and face her as he says, “Nice to know dad doesn’t forget me.”

“Read your book by the way. Found it in a library that was still standing.” he continues. “I thought it was pretty good, all things considered. Definitely ballsy, giving up the family secrets.” His tone is completely observational. Vanya is actually surprised that Five isn’t exactly pissed like the rest of the family. Well, admittedly, her retelling of Five wasn’t much of an asshole as the rest of the family, since Five was actually nicer to her.

“Sure that went over well.” Five said, sarcastically.

“They hate me.” Vanya said, pointing out the obvious truth.

“Oh, there are worse things that can happen.”

“You mean like what happened to Ben?” Five’s expression changes straight away at the mention of their deceased brother. Next to Vanya and Elora, Ben was closest to Five as he was someone that could possibly matched Five’s intellect. With a saddened voice, Five asks her if his death was bad, to which she only nods solemnly. Five’s grief isn’t hard to miss as it is reflected in his eyes. This made Vanya hesitate a little bit on the next touchy subject of Elora’s disappearance. But if Five read her book, shouldn’t that mean Five knew that Elora disappeared sixteen years ago? He should have, but he didn’t mention it at all. Or looks sad at all. Vanya knows Five harboured a bit of a crush for her back when they were kids. Perhaps he is grieving and is too sad to mention her.

“Since you read my book, you’d know that El…” she trails off purposely.

“I know.” Five said, a somber smile adorned his face. “There’s actually something I want to show you, but maybe after we held the funeral.”

“Is it about El?” Vanya asks, a small hope of her sister possibly alive and found blooms in her chest. She can’t help it. She misses her presence and her company. The house was a bit brighter and livelier whenever she was around. After she was gone, it went back to the way it was. Dead and cold.

“Yes, but later Vanya. I’ll invite the rest as well.”

* * *

The one word to describe the funeral is chaotic. Funerals are supposed to be a somber ceremony, but of course, Diego have to pick a fight with Luther by stating out that Reginald Hargreeves was a horrible person and even a horrible father, something Luther disagrees of course, and provokes him by saying that Dad left him on the moon because he couldn’t stand the sight of him. Their altercation resulted in Ben’s statue pushed over and destroyed.

“We don’t have time for this.” Five’s voice ring through the air, loud enough to stop them from continuing. They look at Five, who is fuming and looking impatient as if he has other places to be, which isn’t far from the truth. “If you idiots are finished, maybe we can go and pick up El.”

At the mention of Elora’s name, all heads turn to Five, surprised and disbelief. That name was never mentioned after she went missing. They never want to admit it, but to them, her disappearance was such a great loss, that they never had the heart to talk about it. Well, all except Luther and Pogo, who are actually looking more nervous instead of shock. Expression that doesn’t escape Five’s notice as he turns to Pogo.

“Yes, I know what happened. As much as I want to kill you for what you let Dad did, the best thing you can do right now is to tell me where the facility is so we can pick her up. Maybe then I’ll be generous enough to resort to just maiming you.”

Before Pogo can answer, Diego points his index finger accusingly at him, “You know where she is all this time and you didn’t even tell us?” His voice gains an octave as he finishes his sentence.

For the first time, Klaus actually expresses genuine emotion as he stares in disbelief at Pogo, “How could you?”

Five lets out an annoyed sigh, “Look we don’t have time for Pogo’s vague explanation and justification for our father’s mistreatment. We need to come and pick her up.” He turns to Pogo once again, his tone is that of a restrained anger, “Now, Pogo, will you give us the address for the facility?”

Pogo has the decency to look ashamed, something that Five noted, but it doesn’t diminish his anger, as well as their siblings’ except Luther. Yet again as Pogo was about to answer, he was interrupted, this time by Luther.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for. Even if we show you, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Luther should have shut up and play dumb so his siblings’ anger won’t be directed him as well, but he’s always been chivalrous. Stupid, but chivalrous. His statement, indicating his involvement with what happened to Elora, further angers his siblings. Their expressions are that of betrayal. It was never said out loud, but to the rest of them, it was always us vs Dad. _But then again_ , they thought, _Luther’s Number One, the favourite, and the one who trusted Dad blindly_. They should have expected that, but the betrayal still hurts.

Five comes up to him and stares directly at his eyes. His jaws clenched, signifying his effort in containing his fury. At that moment, all he wants to do is to hurt Luther, no matter how small he is compared to him. But, there’s more important thing to do.

“I will deal with you later. Now, you and Pogo are going to show us where Elora’s being held. _Now_ , Luther.” Everyone knows that the emphasis on the last word means it was an order that should be obeyed with no further questions. But again, as was previously mentioned, Luther isn’t exactly the brightest out of all of them. However, as he was about to retort back, Allison’s voices stopped him.

“Luther, please.”

Allison’s pleading voice is the reason why Luther backs down. He sighs, conceding. Not long after that, all of the Hargreeves siblings are on their way to the place Luther said Elora was being held.

**Hargreeves Lab, Unknown Location, March 24th 2019**

The drive was 45 minutes from the academy, something that unnerved them all. Their destination is located in the middle of nowhere. The place is like a small normal office from the front. Nothing screams out of the ordinary. However once you get pass the front door, the illusion of normalcy shattered. The lobby is just a front. It is empty and the furnitures are all covered in dust, indicating the lack of use.

Luther leads them to the back where they see an elevator and a wardrobe standing next to it. He opens the wardrobe, and inside are coats. He hand them all to his siblings and they know not to ask further questions. It is best for him to just show them why they need the coats. After they all put the coats on, they all piled up into the elevator. Luther press the basement button and the elevator shook as it descends.

The ride in the elevator is silent as it was during the journey from the academy. Perhaps it is for the best since if someone would have spoken up, it was guaranteed would end in a verbal fight (possibly physical). They may also still reeling from the shock that their sister wasn’t exactly missing as their father had told them. The fact that she was being kept here, in a deserted place, doesn’t exactly help the mood either.

The dread they feel doubled as the elevator dinged, signalling that they have reached their destination. When the elevator open, a gush of cold wind blow to their faces. The room they enter is extremely cold, answering their questions why Luther gave them all coats. Luther then gestures to the big double door, the only door for that matter, that stands in the middle of the room. There! There’s where their sister is.

What is inside isn’t exactly something that they have imagined. The room is colder and it doesn’t look like it comes from a vent. In fact it came from a huge block of ice inside a glass tank in the middle of the room where their sister is frozen in, like a caveman in movies. Her body doesn’t look like it aged a day since she went missing. Elora’s expression, however, haunts them. Both of her hands formed fist, pressed into the glass tank, indicating that she might have been banging on it to get out. One question comes into all of their minds as they see the state Elora is in.

_What the hell happened here?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, I would like to say that I'm sorry this came out really late. I should have finished this by Friday, so I can post it that day but I wasn't feeling very well (hopefully it wasn't Corona but my mum was tested positive just now, so...). 
> 
> Second of all, I don't have a particular strong opinion about Luther-Allison ship. I retold their relationship based on what I saw on screen and what they could have felt for each other, so I'm not adding Luther Hargreeves/Allison Hargreeves tags. The evolution of their relationship will be based on what canonically happen. 
> 
> Third and finally, this took longer than necessary also because I was researching a lot about MBTIs and Temperaments. I don't know if they are 100% correct but I think they are great basis in coming up with your OCs' personalities. Elora's personality was already established way before I was researching about MBTIs, but they were roughly described. Stuff like 'cheerful' and 'optimistic' which I thought would be too general. So, I decided to look for MBTIs and see which one fits Elora's traits the way I pictured her in my mind. Lo and behold she's an ENFP, who surprisingly is the natural partner for INTJ, (which was Five) according to various sources. The relationship was described as 'fiery' and is the ultimate opposite attracts. For temperaments, I've found that Five is Phlegmatic and Elora to be Sanguine. Also compatible by the way. I knew it! Five's grumpy nature was compatible with someone who is all cheerful and sweet.
> 
> I'm sorry this ends in a cliffhanger, but hopefully the next chapter will be published on Thursday. 
> 
> Once again, English is my second language, so I'm sorry for the grammatical errors.


	4. A Monster's Doing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monster, they all think at the same time. That word had been used by them to describe their father before, most recently at his funeral, but what he did to Elora was the evidence how true that word could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, a quite descriptive events of drowning and child abuse. Tread carefully

**Los Angeles, California, June 6th 1997**

During summer 1997, Elora’s parents took her out to a beach. She remembered that day vividly, what person who had experienced what she did wouldn’t remember such a day. It started out great, with her and her parents having a competition on who could make the best sand castles, playing beach ball and fly their kites as high as they could. It all went well before they got into the water. Granted, there weren’t any indication that the waves would get any bigger, so her dad assured her mom that their daughter would be safe. After all, they didn’t go any further than the waters that came up to Elora’s waist and she had her round floats with her. It was fun for about 10 minutes before suddenly a giant wave washed over them, pushing Elora further into deeper parts, separating her from her father and her float. Not long afterwards, a number of waves, equal in size to the first giant one, rocked Elora, making her unable to hold her breath properly before another wave came. Before she knew it, she was drowning.

She had swimming lessons before, but the force of the waves were a lot stronger than her little body. The feeling was overwhelming as there was a lot going on. She was struggling against the currents, attempting to resurface to breathe sweet air as much as she could before another wave came and blocking her way. She was running out of air as well as the energy to fight, for her little body was no match for the force of the waves. It dawned to her then that she wouldn’t make it. The thought triggered her and made her panic as she fought more and more. Elora was never one to calm down and think of a solution in an emergency. Panic was always clouding her judgement. Eventually, she lost the stamina to fight and the push and pull of the waves knocked her out. There was burning feeling in her nostrils and the back of her throat, before all was black.

Lady Fortuna was on her side that day. Her experience was only a brush of death as she was saved and resuscitated by a surfer, according to her dad. She woke up, puking the salt water of the sea through her mouth and nostrils. The burning she felt was still there, albeit not as severe as it was. Crowd had gathered around them, but all she could see were the teary but relieved faces of her parents. Her mother enveloped her in a hug while whispering ‘You’re okay’ and ‘Everything is going to be alright’ as her father turned to the nice surfer and thanked her repeatedly.

It took her a while to recover from such a trauma. The following days were filled with flashbacks, insomnias and withdrawals. At the first sign of the effects her parents brought her to therapy, something that actually helped her in reducing the effects of the event. Her days were also filled with a ton of activities her parents made her did, something that might have annoyed her before, but now felt like a good distraction. Alone time was rare for her as she took to spending time with someone else, whether it was her parents or her friends, as much as she could to avoid being withdrawn. Gradually, she went back to the way she was. Well, not entirely, but no one would, after such a traumatic event. Her parents once said to her though, how strong she was for someone so little.

Perhaps they were right or it was a little prayer that was heard by the angels, for when her parents died, she didn’t relapse. She was devastated of course, but there weren’t any indications that her post traumatic stress disorder became worse. There were concerns of relapses due to where she would end up after her parents’ deaths.It wasn’t because they couldn’t find the next of kins as there were still traces that could lead them, no matter the fact that her parents changed their last names. It was more because of the worrisome relationship her and her extended families had. During one of her sessions with her psychologist, Elora mentioned how she and her parents were basically disowned. With a special case like Elora, her psychologist was concerned that her mental health would not be treated as it should. Fortunately, her parents had a will. Elora was to be given to a nearby orphanage if both of them are deceased and she’s not of legal age. The nearby orphanage was Mrs. Brown House for Children.

The loud and rowdy orphanage she was sent to when her parents died was actually a blessing in disguise, now that she thought about it. It didn’t just distract her from her parents’ death but it kept her grounded and away from becoming withdrawn.She rarely had time for herself, thus had no time to self-reflect and becoming lost in her own thoughts, something the psychologist did not recommend at all. Moreover, although Ms. Bertha wasn’t a licensed psychologist and couldn’t help her professionally, her willingness to listen to her was quite helpful. Of course, she didn’t stop coming to therapy, funded by her inheritance. The transition from her household to the orphanage was better than she could have hoped for.

When she first started her days in the Umbrella Academy, she was afraid that the nightmares would come. Mr. Hargreeves didn’t allow her to go her old psychologist and the house was too quiet when she came in. But her fears did not came true fortunately, as she was kept busy with training, catching up on her studies as the rest of the Hargreeves were quite advanced academically, and spending time with her siblings in between. Her therapy was taken care of too, with Mommy and Pogo as her psychologists. The way Mommy handled her during one of her sessions, sometimes made her forget that she was a robot. There was something extremely human about her that Elora immediately treated her as a real-life mother, even calling her ‘Mommy’ affectionately.

Unbeknownst to her, after sessions, one of the Hargreeves would spatial-jump into the therapy room and would look over the notes, memorizing or making copies of them. Whenever he had something he didn’t understand, he would try to find the answers in one of the books provided by his father. On rare occasions, he would ask Grace, never Pogo, although it was accompanied by a not-so-polite reminder to keep it a secret, even to Elora. He even took to making sure she wouldn’t be too involved in missions where there were a large body of water, something that Reginald noticed and was quite irritated by. He once broached the topic to Five in one of his training sessions. Apparently, to him, Five was coddling her to which Five retorted, “Elora is incapacitated when it comes to these missions because she has PTSD. I thought you wanted us to take care of each other during missions. This is my way of taking care of her. It is coddling if it was a mere fear. But she’s not afraid, she was traumatized. Surely, a genius like should have know the difference.” His sarcastic comment earned a harsh training, something Five didn’t mind when he had the satisfaction to see ol’ Reggie’s face turned unflatteringly red from anger.

**Underground, The Umbrella Academy Mansion, February 2003**

The child’s powers weren’t exactly a gem amongst rocks. It wasn’t as special as Number Five’s or Number Three’s, nor was it as strong as Number Seven’s, but it certainly proved useful in battles. It was a great tool to incarcerate and to murder her opponents. However, it took her a while to get used to the idea of taking one’s life. He blamed this weakness, amongst other things, on her upbringing. If only the parents agreed to selling her to him when she was born, the child wouldn’t be riddled with human sentimentality and insufficient knowledge. A part of him regretted ever taking her in but as the saying goes, ‘Once the cow's been milked, there's no squirting the cream back up her udders.’ Besides, the possibilities of her powers would be endless. The thought was enough to motivate him into still keeping her, however weak she was.

The results of her horrendous upbringing weren’t just her excessive tenderness and illiteracy, but also her frailty in mental health. The child was crippled with ‘trauma’, something he did not believe an extraordinary human being could possess. In fact, he thought of it as more of a ‘fear’, an indication of the lack of training in mental strength. But one of the requirements to adopt her was to provide her therapy, and so he programmed Grace to have extensive knowledge on the subject. Together with Pogo, who already had deeper understanding and comprehension of these things, would help her overcoming her disability. He had wanted her to immediately face her fear head on, but perhaps, with the child upbringing, it would have been best to try this sad excuse of a method. It felt more like a pampering to him, to be honest.

How right he was, for the child wasn’t progressing as quick as she should have been able to. Within a year at least, the child should have been rid of this ridiculous weakness of her. It didn’t help that the others, namely Number Five, would hinder her progress by coddling her. The speed of her recovery, or lack thereof, made him desperate. Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Thus, we found him with Pogo and Number Eight in the elevator going down to thefloor in the basement, just below the floor of the giant vault he kept Number Seven in to observe her powers. The elevator dinged before the doors slide open. A long hallway stretched forward into a one double-doors placed right in the centre. He built the floor not necessarily for Number Eight alone. This, along with the floor above it, were for multi function purposes. He then proceeded to modify them to accommodate his researches as well as his attempts to optimize the children’s powers. The floor above was for Number Seven and now this floor, for Number Eight.

“For today’s training, we will be focusing on your mental fortitude, Number Eight.” He said as he stride along the hallway, Pogo and Number Eight on each side. “For so long, I’ve been lenient on this particular element of your training. However, I will no longer afford you such luxury.”

Number Eight looked up to him in confusion and slight fear. In all her time with the Umbrella Academy, there wasn’t one training that she could describe as lenient. “What are we doing today?” She asked, making sure her voice did not tremble.

“We are addressing your fear of water.” _Water,_ she thought. As if she was afraid of water. It was never water. Small amount of it she could handle. After all, she needed water daily. But in large amount, that was another story.

“Fear? Mr. Hargreeves, my psychologist said it’s not fear. It’s more than that. Even Mommy said—“

“Trauma is for the ordinary. Are you ordinary, Number Eight?” It was a rhetorical question, she knew that, so she let him continued. “The extraordinary only know fear and fear can be overcome.”

“But, I think the therapy was doing just fine—“

“Nonsense, Number Eight. Have you seen yourself? The progress of your recovery of which the therapy gave you was nowhere need as it should be. For someone such as yourself, you should be healed by now.” His tone should have given her the impression that there should be no more arguments, however the sheer ludicrosity of what he said left her no choice but to talk back to him.

“Trauma can’t be healed, Mr. Hargreeves—“ she was cut off before she could continue any further.

“Didn’t I already establish that you are no ordinary that could succumb to such infirmity? Now, I order you not to argue this any further.” That shut her up very quickly.

They continued their way into the only door present in the room. Inside was another space, the walls covered in steel. In the centre, another double door, only this time it was made of steel as well. It was dimmed and cold, for the only source of light and heat came from three lights hanging from the ceiling. The trepidation she felt of what was to come increased as she looked around this empty space and finally focusing on that steel entrance. Whatever lied inside was anything but pleasant, something she should have expected, but this time, there was something more unnerving about it. From the way he talked about how _weak_ she was and dismissing her mental illness as if she wasn’t just an ordinary human (which, granted, there was some truth to it as there were no ordinary human that could manipulate ice), she could tell that this training would be more arduous than the others she had experienced. She did not if she could handle it.

Inside the steel door, was another squared space with steels covering the walls. Four red bunker lights were placed on each of the walls. The room was illuminated with only three lights on the ceiling. At the centre, on a steel platform, was a huge glass tank. Two pipes with one side of each attached to the left and right of tank, and the other side attached to the walls, connecting the tank to the walls. A step ladder was placed near the tank. Number Eight already knew from the setting of the place what would Mr. Hargreeves do in order to _help_ her _overcome her fear_. Her eyes became teary as she turned to him in order to confirm her assumption, partly out of denial that the man would truly be cruel enough to do something like that. But, Mr. Hargreeves eyes were steeled and unchanging. His expression remained passive as it always was. She then turned to Pogo, hoping that he would at least reassured her that he would do something if Mr. Hargreeves did what he seemingly had in mind for her. Alas, all Pogo did was to turn his head away, a bit of remorse on his face.

“Alright then, get into the tank, Number Eight.” Mr. Hargreeves said before she could utter a word in protest. She began to cry as her body automatically did what he told her to do. She climbed up the step ladder and got into the tank. She placed both her hands on the glass and stared pleadingly at Mr. Hargreeves.

He nodded at Pogo before Pogo went to press a small red button on the left. The alarm went off and all four red bunker lights flicker. They all could hear the sound of waters rushing through pipes. A few seconds later, water surged from the two pipes into the glass tank, filling it up. Reginald saw as Number Eight looked around in panic.

“Number Eight, I want you to use your powers to try freeze the waters around you.”

Number Eight closed her eyes to concentrate on harnessing her powers, keeping her mind away from the rushing water that is quickly filling up the glass tank. She shed more tears however as she found she could only freeze some of the water before her concentration broke by the feeling of the push and pull of the water, imitating that of waves. After two more failed attempts, she opened her eyes and was horrified to find the water had reached her waist. Flashbacks of the overwhelming and burning feeling of drowning came to her in tenfold. She began to pound on the glass tank, shouting for Mr. Hargreeves and Pogo.

Pogo looked to his master and said his name, a tad pleadingly. But Mr. Hargreeves did not turn his gaze away from Number Eight. His face was that of disappointment as he looked on to another failure, just like Number Four. “Number Eight, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Please, Mr. Hargreeves. I’ll do anything! Please!” Those were the only things she could say before the water had reached her nose and she had to look up to avoid breathing in the water. Number Eight closed her eyes and tried to find happy memories that she could concentrate in order to keep her thoughts away from the feeling of the moving water surrounding her.

Mr. Hargreeves let out a sigh. Without another word, he turned around and take a step to leave the room. Pogo took this as a sign that it was time to stop andbegan to walk to the button to turn off the surging water before Mr. Hargreeves voice stopped him. “Pogo, what are you doing? Let us go.”

“But, master, Number Eight— We cannot possibly leave her here. She will drown.”

“If she was to drown, then she has failed her training.”

Pogo looked up to his master, appalled. Reginald Hargreeves was always logical and never seem to succumb to his emotions but he did not think he would be cruel. Number Eight only joined in two years ago, but she had a small special place in Pogo’s heart. Her warmth was always a welcoming presence in such an inhospitable place like the mansion he lived in. He also knew that as much as Reginald Hargreeves viewed her as expendable, her siblings did not subscribe to such a thought. She was dear to them, especially to Number Four and Number Five. He could not imagine how furious Number Five would have been to see this especially to find out that Number Eight died. Thankfully, he was still missing.

He was conflicted, however. His loyalty was to his master first. His master was his creator. He would not be what he was if it weren’t for Reginald Hargreeves. He was his master and his friend. Obeying his orders should have been his obligation and purpose. But at the same time, what he did was morally reprehensible. It was murder, and the victim was a child, an innocent. The motive of the murder was inexcusable, no matter how his master viewed it as otherwise. Moreover, her death would be a devastating loss to not only him but to her siblings as well. With that, his mind was made up.

Before he could voice out his mind, the temperature of the room dropped significantly low. Reginald and Pogo’s attention turned to the source and found the water that had reached just an inch below the lid of the tank completely froze, along with Number Eight inside. Her hands coiled into a fist, pressed against the glass. Horrified expression, mouth agape, and completely frozen. He looked to his master to find him to be completely in awe by what they saw. Was this a success to whatever Reginald Hargreeves had in mind?

“Extraordinary.” His master said, breathlessly. “Completely done out of control of course. Nonetheless, it was a progress.”

Reginald approached the frozen girl. “Number Eight? Can you hear me?” He tapped the glass to which he received no response. He continued to analyze it in fascination for a few minutes, before turning around and gestured for Pogo to follow him.

“But, Master, Number Eight—“

“Will be frozen for a time. Best we wait for her upstairs.”

It was a sound plan, so he acquiesced. However, five hours later, when Reginald and Pogo came back down to check on Number Eight, they found the ice remained unchanged. This development did not worry Reginald, he was more and more intrigued instead. None of the ice chipped and they didn’t find water indicating the ice had melted, even a little bit. The condition of Number Eight remained the same five days later. As much as Reginald wanted to see how long it would take for it to melt, Number Eight’s absence in missions had been much more of a burden than it was originally thought of. Her powers were quite useful in battles, as it was noted before, but her awareness of her surrounding really made a huge difference in the mission’s success. The rest of the Umbrella Academy might save the day, but they left behind a lot of casualties, mostly in terms of injured bystanders. Number Eight’s observant trait had always helped in making sure that the people around the crime scene were protected from the blows. While Reginald had the money for compensations, this blunder would reflect poorly on The Umbrella Academy’s reputation.

Thus, Reginald finally took action. He moved Number Eight to a facility, far away from civilization. There, he had invented weapons after weapons that generated heat, in order to melt the ice, to no avail. Weapons to destroy the ice were also invented, yet, none of the weapons are strong enough to do so. He noted, to his ever growing fascination, that Number Eight’s body was preserved by the ice encasing her. Her body remained normal, didn’t look starved or hydrated. It aroused his curiosity of what was going on inside Number Eight’s body. Moreover, over the years, she did not age, adding more mystery to the extent of her powers, much to Reginald’s delight.

As the years went by, with nothing he could invent would help in bringing back Number Eight, Reginald finally came to his last resort: Number One. He kept Number Eight’s cryogenic sleep a secret from the rest of the Umbrella Academy. He knew that if the children found out about the fate of Number Eight, there would be _complications_. He imagined Number Two, with his hero-complex, would rebel and that truly would be tiresome. The rest of them, except Number One, would join in out of loyalty inspired by Number Eight’s endeavors of weakening them (read: bonding), attempts that Reginald had discouraged so many times, to no success. He’d rather not cause discord within his creations, he had lost two of them after all. But, now one of the would know the whereabouts of Number Eight, but Number One had always been trusting to his commands and his intentions absolutely. He was sure if he had explained what he was trying to accomplish and asked Number One to keep it a secret, he would comply.

And comply, he did.

**Hargreeves Lab, Unknown Location, March 24th 2019**

“I tried to use my powers to destroy the ice. As you can see, it didn’t work.” Luther gestures to the frozen girl as he finishes his story.

The rest of the siblings, except for Five, look on horrified at what Luther told them. Out of all the possibilities they had in mind of what had happened to Elora, this was by far the worst. Just as they thought Reginald Hargreeves couldn’t be any worse, he proved them wrong. _Monster_ , they all think at the same time. That word had been used by them to describe their father before, most recently at his funeral, but what he did to Elora was the evidence how true that word could be. The idea that he would resort to _murder_ just because one of them did not meet his expectation is truly terrifying. It almost hits home when it comes to Klaus. He knows perfectly well the methods Reginald Hargreeves used when it comes to _helping his children overcoming their fears_. After all, he was the receiving end, once upon a time.

Unlike his siblings, Five looks at Luther in pure anger. It was a shocking revelation that Luther had known about Elora’s circumstances and kept it a secret, given Elora herself did not know of it. It was understandable as she was unconscious. It made him furious that Luther seemingly does not see this as another thing Reginald Hargreeves did that was absolutely wrong. Was his loyalty to that god awful man was so unconditional that he is blinded to his immorality and misconduct?

“You knew about this? And you stand there like this isn’t something out of a horror story?” Five gritted his teeth, glaring at Luther.

“Dad said it was to help her—“

“Help her? If he wanted to help her, he should have let her continue that therapy! She was traumatized no matter how much dear ol’ dad thought it wasn’t, out of ridiculous notion that we are impervious to mental illness!” Five shouted at Luther, dropping the restraining act. “Do you know how heartbreaking it was to hear her describe the whole thing?” Five’s voice cracks at that, something that took them all by surprise. The vulnerability of his voice isn’t something they have gotten used to. Five was always the cocky and prideful little know-it-all. According to them all, he was never one to be vulnerable. Well, all except Vanya of course.

The only thing Luther can do is to stay silent and looks down at Five, remorsefully. He did keep the secret from his siblings, even after all of them left the house. However, he never say he did it without any regrets. He was plagued by guilt to the point where he even had a small argument with his father over whether or not they should tell the rest of his siblings, no matter how late it had been. However, father had refused and before he could gather enough courage to defy him, father had sent him to the moon with this important mission. Luther couldn’t pass up the opportunity, as it was for the greater good.

His silence was greeted by a roundhouse kick in the head by Five. He did say that he will deal with Luther. For someone so little, Five can definitely pack a punch. Of course, his legs are throbbing, but perhaps the anger and the adrenaline keeps him from feeling any pain. He then kicks Luther in the shin making him doubles over, holding the area where it hurts. However, before he could throw a punch on his face, Diego grabs his hand and stops him. He looks to Diego in shock. Out of all of them, Diego should be the last person to stop him from physically maiming Luther, especially for his involvement in what their father did to Elora. He tries to take his hand away, but Diego won’t budge. He gives Five a pointed look, telling him to stop.

“Why should I? He deserves it.”

“Yes, he most definitely deserves it. But right now, Five, we should get her out of there.” Five glares at him for a few moments, before relenting.

“What part of ‘no weapons could destroy it’ and ‘my powers didn’t work’ do you not understand?” Luther says, as he regains his composure.

“Wait. Hold on a sec.” Allison, says, finally speaking up. “Five said he knew what happened to El and talked like he had spoken to her recently. That means you met her in the future, right?”

Five gives her a nod. “I wouldn’t exactly said recently, but yeah. I’ve found her in the future.”

“What year did you find her?”

“2089.” Five pauses for a moment before answering with a lie.

“Oh, shit.” Allison sighs.

Never has Five wanted to tell them about the apocalypse more than that moment. He wanted to tell them that he found Elora in 2019 and that he and Elora speculated that whatever triggered the apocalypse must have destroyed the ice encasing her, since it should have been melted way before. Luther’s recollection of what happened just proved that their assumption was correct. 

“Well, maybe in that timeline, it takes too long for her to be freed because none of us knows she’s here. Maybe this time, she won’t have to wait that long because we’re here to figure out how to unfreeze her.” Diego pipes up, full of determination. There ain’t no way he’s going to let his sister continue to suffer because of someone as vile as Reginald Hargreeves.

“Yeah, maybe.” Five says, giving Diego a weak smile.

“Well, that’s it then.” Vanya speaks up for the first time since the fiasco after the funeral. “We’ll take her with us and put her in her room or something while we figure out how to free her”

Klaus’ eyes light up, “Yeah, yeah, I have scented candles. We can light em up to make her room warmer. That way, the ice’ll melt faster.”

With that, they began to make preparations to transport Elora back to the mansion. The cars they took to the lab were not exactly made to carry Elora, so they have to go back to town and rent a truck. They also cover her up with a black cloth as to not attract attentions on their way home. When they arrived, they wanted to place her in her room, but the glass tank was too big for her door frame. Finally, they choose the living room next to fire place. Hopefully the fire, along with Klaus’ ten scented candles, will melt her ice faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that I took too long to update. I was aiming to update twice a week, but it has been hectic these past few days. While my mom is positive, fortunately, the rest of my family including myself tested negative. So that was great. I was quite busy with taking care of my mom, amongst other things as well. 
> 
> I know that there's no saying of 'Once the cow's been milked, there's no squirting the cream back up her udders' in real life. Twenty points to the people who could point out where does this saying come from. 
> 
> I tried to make sure I never make characters inherently antagonists or evil, as shown with how conflicted Pogo and Luther were written when facing Reginald's cruelty. This was because, as it turns out Luther wasn't always an asshole. At this point, Reggie is the only character that I mildly write as sort of evil. Even then, I tried to limit it to just to his kids, as it was canon that he mistreated them. I don't want to further write him as truly evil, like to Pogo and possibly Grace, because in the season 2 he seemed to be kinder to Pogo and the original Grace. This actually frustrated me. With ongoing series, it's quite hard to truly write characters and their thoughts as they were canonically. Sometimes they changed. Sometimes they kept their intention secretly that will only be revealed in the finale. Sometimes their earlier traits or character developments were thrown out of the window just because (*ahem* Daenerys Targaryen *ahem* Jaime Lannister *ahem*). So yeah, pray that I will make it as consistent as possible. 
> 
> Final note: I'm sorry if the things I write about PTSD weren't exactly right. I only did a little bit of research about it. I am really really sorry, and I am open for suggestions about these things. 
> 
> English is my second language, sorry if there are grammatical errors. See you in the next chapter.


	5. Companions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five wasn't always alone.

**On the stoop of Meritech Lab, March 25 th 2019, 17.00 PM**

“Hey, you know. I’ve just now realized why you’re so uptight.” Klaus walks up to him. “You must be horny as hell.” He laughs, to which Five scoffs at his antics. Typical of Klaus. Always inapproriate and perverse, coming up with blunt sexual quips. 

“All those years by yourself. It’s gotta screw with your head, being alone.”

“Well…” Five gulps, debating whether or not to tell this story to Klaus, of all people. He didn’t tell Vanya when she asked him who accompanied him during his time in the post-apocalyptic world. But he suppose Klaus is probably to drunk or high (or maybe both) to remember what little he says about the one companionship he desperately wants back. “I wasn’t always alone.”

Klaus’ mischevious look quickly drops as he was reminded of the thing Five said in that awful facility. “Oh, yeah, I remember. You found El, huh? You were with her the whole time?”

* * *

He never wanted to go back to that awful city. Ruins of old buildings would always remind him of the good times before the illusion disappeared and the nightmare-ish reality finally reared its ugly head. But he had to go back. He promised himself that no matter how far he wandered, he would always go back and visit the graves of his siblings that he himself dug for them after he found their bodies. It was stupid human sentimentality that his father would have disapproved. But he was alone, and as it turned out, no matter how extraordinary he was as his father told him so, he was still just a human. A human that craved another human to fulfill his social needs. Thus, every year, for the past 8 years, he came back and visit his siblings’ graves, talking to them as if they could talk back to him. Something that he used to tried not to indulge himself in as he was afraid he might gone insane. But, as the years progressed, he found comfort in the hallucination.

Their graves were placed in the courtyard in the ruins of their old house. All six graves lined up next to each other, in chronological order. Five knew that Luther wouldn’t have wanted to not be placed next to Allison and Diego would have been absolutely furious if his grave was placed next to Luther. He didn’t care, though. The chronological order reminded him of the old times, of the Umbrella Academy. He felt conflicted to not have found Ben and Elora’s bodies. A part of him had hoped that they survived somehow. But that hope was extinguished when he found Vanya’s book. Ben was dead. His body was in the courtyard, with the destroyed statue as a grave marker. So, he buried the other five siblings beside the statue.

_As for El…_

He was absolutely distraught after he learnt of her disappearance. Her body was out there, possibly mangled, and he couldn’t find it. He knew he wouldn’t want to see her dead body, but it would have been nice to have found it and buried it so he could visit once in a while and talked to her, like he did with his siblings.

_Poor sweet El. Out there alone._

_I’ll come find you._

_Please wait for me._

_Should I go now and look for her?_

_She doesn’t like to be alone._

_Oh, no! Poor, El._

_I’ll go now—_

_No!_ Five slapped himself hard on the face, as he stopped walking. _Focus, Five. Your siblings need you._ Now wasn’t the time to look for El’s body. He needed to see his brothers and sisters. They must have missed him terribly. Especially Vanya. She was always excluded by the others. He could search for El’s body after his visit. This time, he would expand his grounds. If El’s missing, she was either kidnapped or she ran away. And if it was the latter, then she would have gone far away from home.

As he neared the his destination, he found an unsual sight. There was a body lying besides Luther’s grave. Five was used to finding bodies, usually charred or mutilated (He had to take a breath as he remembered the destroyed bodies of his siblings, with only bits that remained in tact to identify each of them), but this body was whole, not a single thing part missing or looked burnt. Dirty and filled with scraps and bruises, but whole. Female as he noted. He readied his gun, pointing it at her. He couldn’t be sure whether or not she was alive. After all if you had survived whatever caused the apocalypse, chances were, you would have died of starvation and dehydration. But, Five couldn’t be sure. Maybe the girl ate human carcasses to sustain herself. Five had gone this far, and he didn’t want to die being eaten by a savage. Although, a small part of him was quite excited for someone tangible that he could interact with.

The girl had brown hair. That’s the only feature he could identify as the hair covered most of her face. As it turned out she was alive as he saw her chest rising everytime she took a breath. He nudged the tip of his gun to her shoulder several times before he was sure that she was awaken.

The girl brushed her hair to the side, revealing a face that was quite familiar to Five. She yawned before fixing her blue eyes to him. Immediately, she was alerted. She stood up then took a few step back before putting herself in a position ready to fight him. From the looks of it, she was about the same age as Five. She was wary of him, but at the same time, she looked as if she was inspecting him. Her eyes flickered back and forth from his face to the gun that was pointed at her.

“I didn’t know there would still be anyone left.” She said. “Please put the gun down, I mean no harm.”

“Then what were you doing here?”

“I just…” she began to tear up, “These are my brothers and sisters’ graves. I just found them 2 days ago.”

Five held his breath for a second. It was his turn to inspect her. Her face was familiar but the more he looked at it, the more he saw the resemblance to the happy little girl he had been searching for all this time. The same almond-shaped eyes and cute button nose. Only, she had a more haunted look, understandable, given the circumstances they were in. His gaze immediately went to her wrist, something he should have done, and found the umbrella ink-job they all had.

“El?” He said, breathlessly, as he lowered his gun. He couldn’t believe it. Was this real or was this another delirium. He knew his mind was deteriorating but never could it ever conjure such a reunion. The best he had ever thought was to find her body somewhere and carry it to be buried with their siblings. Was his own mind had turned against him? Creating such a beautiful yet painful vision. Or was this real?

No. Good things don’t just happen. It’s not Disney.

The sound him calling her nickname made her smile. “Five, right?” she said, just as breathless as he was. “I knew it was you. You have the same face shape as the little Five I knew.” There was a little hint of playful tone that Five used to hear.

“Please… I can’t—” He begged. To whom? He, himself didn’t know. All he knew was that it was painful. This conflict within his body. The logical side of him, the more dominant one and the one he always prefered, told him that it wasn’t real. The other side, the one he tends to ignore, told him to touch her, just to confirm what he couldn’t help but to hope for.

Elora’s smile faded as she saw Five dropped the gun and clutched his head. “Five? Are you okay?” She took a step forward before stopping as Five immediately backed away, frantically, turning his wild gaze to her.

“Get away from me!” He shouted at her, “You’re not real! Please! I can’t—” he heaved as he kept clutching his head. He then sit down and rocked back and forth, chanting “Not real, she’s dead” over and over again.

Elora’s heart broke seeing him like this. The Five she knew was always calm and smug. She never see him afraid or lost control like this before. Had the apocalypse screwed with his mind? She knew the answer to that immediately. The apocalypse had changed her as well. Who wouldn’t be changed?

She took a deep breath and began to take cautious step to the quivering figure of Number Five. He was crying now and it hurt her to hear him did that. She slowly placed a hand on top of his shoulder. He flinched a little bit, but he didn’t back away, so she took that as a sign that he wouldn’t mind if she touch him. She then carefully tried to envelop him in a hug. It was a bit awkward given the fact he had his legs between them, but she hoped that the skin-on-skin contact could help him realize that this was in fact real and he wasn’t just imagining it. It was also for her as well. However put-together she looked like, she herself still couldn’t believe that she found someone, let alone Five of all people. The one person who went missing after that little argument with Mr. Hargreeves over time-travel.

After a while Five returned her hug, burying his face into her neck. She was real. It wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him. She didn’t smell like that perfume she kept putting on after getting ready in the morning. Instead she smelt like dust, but she was real and that was all that mattered.

“Oh my god. How did she get out of that facility? She was underground.” Klaus asks him. It shocks Five that Klaus sounds so serious. There was no hint of nonchalance in his tone that he heard when he met him in 2019 for the first time.

“How else? She dug herself out of there. Took her 2 months to get out. Used her power.” He lets out a little smile. “She said she was lucky that she found quite a lot of canned foods there. For water? She just melted the ice she created.”

“Hah! Thank fuck for that luck.” Klaus guffaws. His boisterous laugh ceases as his blissful expressions becomes playful as he turns to Five, nudging him with his elbow. “So, you were together, huh?”

Lost in his thoughts, Five doesn’t catch the double meaning. “Were you listening to what I was saying?”

“Nah, I mean were you _together_ together?”

Five scowls as he finally understands what Klaus was trying to say. “Another disturbing glimpse into your brain, Klaus.” He pauses for a moment, debating again whether or not to disclose this information to Klaus. “But, yes. We were _together_ together. I proposed at 24 and we were married for 23 years. There were no witnesses and no formal ceremony but it was perfect, I guess.”

“Aw! I always knew you were sweet on her. You were always so protective and jealous when she spends time with me.” If Klaus nudges him one more time, he’ll break that arm.

“Can’t imagine how you two get along. You’re so…” Klaus pauses as his gestures to Five’s whole body,”…. You. And El’s a sweetheart who could get a role as a Disney Princess if she wanted to.”

Five scoffs, a fond smile graces his face as he remembers the many times he faced Elora’s wrath everytime he was being reckless or for doing anything else that endangered his life. “She wasn’t a Disney Princess when she was furious. El’s sweet and all, but she’s frightening when angered and she could give the chilliest cold-shoulder.” Five lets out a small laugh as another fond memory of their times together passes through his mind.

“Oh, yeah I remember her fury.” The image of little Elora, who only came up to Klaus’ shoulder, scolding him for another relapse. She then proceeded to give him a cold shoulder, only for a day, because according to her, no one could resist Klaus’ pleading puppy face. But, Five was right. Her cold-shoulder was as cold as her powers.

Klaus is so happy to see Five relaxes a little bit. The little guy was so on the edge ever since he came back from the future. But now, he smiles a little bit remembering the what seems to be the good times he had with little El. He’s so happy for him that he doesn’t want to ask the next question that will surely sour Five’s mood. He was curious, though, and his curiosity beats whatever apprehension he felt.

“You said 23 years, huh? But you’re 58…” Klaus takes a moment before continuing, “Is she…” he dares not continue the sentence.

“Dead? Yeah.” Just as he expected, Five is no longer relax and happy. There’s a haunted look on his face. It was a touchy subject, but Five continues anyways. “Disease. I don’t know what. She got it and she became weaker as the days went by. One day, she just passed away, in her sleep.”

Klaus lets out a long sigh. It was realistic of course. No one would survive the apocalypse, however extraordinary and inhumane the Hargreeves were. He was surprised that Five had lasted longer. Poor little El. He remembers that little girl who did nothing wrong but was trapped in that hellish house just to be treated like an experiment by their father. The same little girl that ended up underground and frozen because of said father. The memories of the good times, of when she was alive and around, becomes too much for Klaus that his hand instinctively reaches out for a bottle of liquor beside him, only to find out that there are none. So he did the next best coping-mechanism. Inappropriate japes in order to redirect.

“At least you had 23 years!” Klaus lets out a hollow laugh. “God, the longest I’ve been with someone was…” he pauses, “I don’t know, three weeks?” Was it three weeks? It might have been a week, he can’t tell. His mind was fucked up then so he doesn’t remember such insignificant details. What was his name again? Mario? Martin?

“And that’s only because I was so tired of looking for a place to sleep.” He continues, not noticing Five had teleported into a cab. “He did make the most fantastic _osso buco_ , though. It was…” Klaus turns to where Five was. He’s not there, of course.

“Five?”

He then turns his gaze to the road, finding Five gives a mocking salute inside a cab that drives away.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, what about my money?!” Klaus shouts.

_That Little Shit._

* * *

He had found her by chance. He was visiting his siblings and his wife’s graves. It was the 3rd anniversary of Elora’s death when he met her in the ruins of a department store. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was Gimbel Brothers. They once bought a couple of dresses for Grace at that department store. But he never paid attention to her before. Perhaps, he was too preoccupied with the umbrella academy kids. Klaus was too loud and had attracted a lot of attention, possibly irritating the staffs enough to kick them out. Thankfully, Luther and him handled him. Perhaps she was new and wasn’t there the one time the umbrella academy kids went to that department store. Either way, he had never seen her before.

She was breathtaking. Beautiful with delicate features and porcelaine skin. But what stood out the most were her eyes. Almond shaped with blue irises. The eyes that reminded him of his late wife. It was his grief talking. After all, he had never moved on from Elora. Why should he when he knew that one day, he would go back to the past and would see her again. But for the time being, when loneliness started to gnaw at his soul, she would be a great substitute to fill the voide Elora left behind. Elora wouldn’t mind, right? She couldn’t blame him when he felt absolutely isolated after she died. This time, he couldn’t bear it. The times spent with her had possibly made him weaker. Or she had made him realized more and more how precious having someone beside you is.

Of course, Five was a gentleman. He didn’t immediately take her and had her accompany him in wandering around the hellscape. He was taught much better than that. So his was plan he would introduce himself first and would ask for her name. From there, everything should be easier.

She was a lot sassier when he finally came up to her. Giving sarcastic quips about his courting skills. He laughed a little bit, the first one in 3 years since Elora’s death. He then asked for her name to which they had to go through this clever and mischevous banter of her giving many excuses of why she shouldn’t give her name and him giving his reasons why she should. Finally, she gave in and she revealed her name. The name that shocked him for a bit because of how similar it sounded to the name of a woman he loved so earnestly.

* * *

**Gimbel Brothers Department Store, March 25 th 2019, 23.15 PM**

“Delores.” Five says, smiling a little bit, as he stares at the mannequin in front of him. She is still as beautiful as the day he found her in the ruins of Gimbel Brothers Department Store. This time, she is a lot cleaner, and has more arms and legs. Turns out her hair is also brown. Figures.

“It’s good to see you.”

_I thought you had ran off with El._

He lets out a bitter laugh. “Can’t actually do that. She’s frozen, remember?”

_Oh yeah. I’m sorry._

Five doesn’t know how to respond to her pitying tone. Though he blurts out the one thing that comes up to his mind. “I’ve missed you. Obviously.”

 _Idiot._ There’s pause of her contemplating what to say next. She wanted to make mocking japes about how younger he becomes, but he looks so worn out that she doesn’t have the heart to do so. Plus, he has that haunted look on his face, the one he always had whenever he’s remembering Elora. _You look… like shit._ Shit! Why did she say that? So insensitive.

“Well I…” Five sighs. “It’s been a rough couple of days.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I've been gone for a while. School started and I've got a lot of assignments. Plus, I actually had to find a motivation to finish this story. That's the thing about me, I burned out so easily. I watched the Umbrella Academy Season 2 once again to find that motivation. Hopefully, I could finish this series before Season 3 come out (Yay! We have a Season 3. I was gonna riot if we don't). 
> 
> I've been asked a couple of times about how inappropriate the ages of Five and Elora are. Like, is Elora still mentally a child in 2019? I know Five is a 58 year old in a 13 year old body so I had to think long and hard on how to make this as appropriate as I could. But for the answer to this question will be revealed in time. It's a slow burn, people. Sorry about that. 
> 
> Also if you haven't realized it yet, Elora and Delores have similiar names. I made it to seem like Five was coping, through the manifestation of Delores. Also also, if you haven't noticed, the voices in Five's head are italic and it was the same as Delores' lines. I don't want to be rude, but to me, Delores was Five's way of coping in the canon The Umbrella Academy and in this fic. I'm not trying to pick a fight with those who ship Five and Delores, but that's just my opinion. 
> 
> I will try to update twice a week like I promised.
> 
> English is my second language, sorry if there are grammatical errors. See you in the next chapter.
> 
> P.S. I'm looking for a beta-reader. If anyone is interested, please message me. Thank you!


	6. Clair de Lune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know what I’m capable of and you’re not? Dancing.” 
> 
> “So, you’re going to teach me? But there’s no music.”
> 
> “Just play a song in your head. A good classical song we could dance to.”

“You know, usually, in a wedding, the bride and the groom share a dance.” Elora said cheekily. Her smile never leave her face ever since they said their “I do”s in what had been Umbrella Academy’s courtyard.

Five scoffed, looking at her with fake annoyance as he usually did. “But this isn’t a typical wedding is it? We’re not wearing appropriate attires, this isn’t a church and all of our family members are dead.” Five gave a few second of pause before continuing, “Also, if you hadn’t noticed, this is a post-apocalyptic world.”

Elora gave a small giggle, “I guess you’re right. Not to mention, we’re holding it in front of the Umbrella Academy’s graves.” The thought gave her a small chill down her back. There was definitely something very macabre about this. Celebrating a wedding besides the graves of their dead loved ones, in a post-apocalyptic world where millions of people died. The Elora she had been would have cringed at the idea of doing such a thing. She would have wanted a beautiful private wedding, somewhere outdoor, attended by all of her friends and family members. But, her times with Five had slightly made her more pragmatic and realistic. Besides, there was something romantic about having to find each other after doomsday and finally joining hands in matrimony, eventhough there weren’t any alive witnesses. She should make a novel out of this. Two gifted kids stuck in a post-apocalyptic world, finding each other and fall in love, getting married, probably having kids later. Okay, the last one wasn’t a sure thing since she was pretty sure bearing a child at a time like this would be dangerous as there was no medical assistance and she couldn’t imagine herself giving birth in the middle of nowhere with no epidural.

“You’re lost in your thoughts again.” Five said to her, waking her from her musing. “Do you really want a dance so badly?”

“I mean, we don’t have to, but it’d be nice…”

Five gave a loud sigh and she knew that she had him convinced. “Fine. Just so you know, I’m not good at dancing. Especially waltz.” Five looked at everywhere but her, seemingly embarrassed. Elora took his face and turned him to her as she gave him her warm smile.

“That’s alright. I’ll teach you. I’m pretty good at it, you know?”

Five narrowed his eyes at her, “Really? Who taught you?”

Elora debated whether or not she would want to disclose this information. She knew how jealous Five sometimes would be. But, given the circumstances, the truth wouldn’t have been that bad anyways. “It was Luther.”

Five rolled his eyes, “Just as I thought.”

Elora looked to him, interested by that bland response. “Hmm… that’s not what I expected.”

“If you’re expecting me to be jealous, then you’re wrong. No, not at the moment. Luther’s dead. It would be ridiculous to be jealous of a corpse.” Five wouldn’t know how he would feel if they got back to the past like he planned and saw Luther again. But then again, Luther had been very clear whom he had been smitten by. He guessed that if they would go back in time and see the others, he wouldn’t be jealous. After all, El was in love with him and only him.

Then there’s the matter of El’s body from the past as well as the future being in the same timeline. He had to find a way to make sure there wouldn’t be two Eloras at the same time. He wasn’t sure what would happen if such a thing occurred, but it would definitely be bad. A thought that definitely frightened Five more than he had imagined. It motivated him further to make sure that nothing bad would happen to El when they travel back to the past. He guessed he had a lot of work to do, huh?

“Now, you’re the one lost in thought.” Elora chuckled, “What were you worrying about?”

“Who said I was worrying about something?”

He heard her scoffed at his way, “Please? I think I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re worried. You have this expression…” she gestured towards his whole face. “I couldn’t explain it.”

Five only gave her a silent sad smile. El has always been very observant. Quick to notice the little things. Five wasn’t known for his indulgence in feelings. He also had a hard time expressing himself. He was thankful that El was always so understanding and perceptive. That’s why it was easier for him to be with her. Someone with whom he could communicate with beyond words. And someone who was very appreciative of actions more than words, because by god, Five was bad with words. El was the first one to say “I love you” and she was perfectly fine with the way Five said his “I love you” in a different way. It was said to her whenever she heard him thanking her, worrying about her and scolding her if she was being reckless.

“Is it the equation?”

“Something like that.”

El smiled at him, apologetically. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t be of help.”

Five took her hand and squeezed it, relishing in the warmth of it. “Don’t be. It’s beyond your capability and that’s okay.”

Opting to change the subject as Five looked like he didn’t want to talk about this further, she gave him a mischievous smile and said, “You know what I’m capable of and you’re not? Dancing.”

“So, you’re going to teach me? But there’s no music.”

“Just play a song in your head. A good classical song we could dance to.” Elora thought of many things. A nice song she could get into the mood for waltz would be Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy. It was a favourite of hers, though Luther found it to be boring. Then again, Luther prefer to dance to a more upbeat songs. It was very nice of Luther to put this song on whenever he came to visit her in that facility.

“All I could think of is Danse Macabre by Camille Saint-Saëns.” Yeah, to Five, Danse Macabre was the perfect song, given they were about to dance in front of graves. 

“That’s not exactly a romantic song, Five.”

“Well, what song will it be?”

“Clair de Lune?”

“Hmm… of course you would choose that.” There was a small passing thought of El and Luther dancing to this song that made him extremely jealous. But then he made himself focus on the present. On El’s beautiful face, waiting for his answer, whether or not he wanted to dance to this song.

“What about Chopin? Nocturne…” Five suggested, remembering the way Father had him played it in their piano. Every single time little 8-year-old Five made a mistake he would smack his hand with a ruler. He resented him for a while, but found himself to truly enjoying the beautiful song.

“The one song, you would drop whatever you’re doing and play when requested.” Elora giggled, “Very well, if it gets you in the mood for dancing.”

She placed his left hand around her waist and took his right hand into her own. Five was too still, standing there awkwardly, his palms damp from sweating too much. Thus, Elora started to sway, guiding Five whilst doing so. She started to imagine Nocturne playing in the background, but could only do so for a short time before she felt Five stepping on her left foot. She opened her eyes and saw Five looking remorseful for hurting her. She couldn’t help but to let out a chuckle.

“Don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt.” She took his face into her hand. “Stop worrying and listen to the music in your head. Remember the tunes.”

Five closed his eyes and tried to get to remember what Nocturne sounded like. It took a while but he managed to do so, lost in the harmony as well as the presence of El. At that moment, he could find a bit of peace. No longer equations and fear of failures plaguing his mind and corrupting his soul. There were only the beautiful flow of Nocturne and El. The music made him float but El was there to ground him. He could feel her, every part of her, now that she came closer and rested her head on his chest. They were no longer waltzing. They were embracing one another while swaying to the imaginary music, enjoying each other’s company. No matter how beautiful Nocturne played in his mind, no sound is better than the sound of El’s heartbeat.

He felt whole for the first time in a very long time.

He felt…

_Warm._

* * *

_Cold._

Her hands were cold. It shouldn’t have been like that. El was always warm, be that it was her body or her personality, and only her powers were cold. That juxtaposition was something that first startled Five and overtime, it was something that Five cherished. It made El special. Most of all, warmth meant that El was still alive and didn’t abandon him in this hell hole.

_El?_

At first he couldn’t believe it. He checked her body, only to find out that her whole body was cold. From there, he couldn’t help but to check her pulse and her heartbeat. None. There was no intake of breath as well as the exhale. She stopped breathing.

_Please_

In the back of his mind, the logical side of him, that he shut away the minute El became sick, had laughed at him and kept chanting “I told you so”. It told him that he should have listened to it, no matter how cruel the words are, because they were true. Sickness in this post-apocalyptic world would eventually lead to death. No cure was available, so death was inevitable. The cruel truth that Five avoided all these 8 months he spent taking care of El, who’s gotten sicker each day, was now the only thing in his mind.

_No…_

He had been working on that equation, on making sure that El was okay when they travel back to the past. He’s long forgotten the first equation he ever worked on, the one involving himself and time traveling, in favour of making sure that El wouldn’t get hurt. These years wasted on that damn equation, only to have the person it was intended for died in her sleep, after fighting whatever disease that attacked her body. A disease that came out of nowhere.

**_On the bright side, you’re not going anywhere with that equation anyways._ **

_Stop!_

_ Five _

That’s not true. Five was smart. He would find a way to make the equation work. He would use other ways if it was necessary. Anything, as long as El was still beside him, alive and well. A thought that immediately made him face the reality. Elora was dead. Her dead body was right there, in his embrace. And if El was gone, then that means he’s all alone again, like he was many years ago.

_No…_

_ Five! _

The thought had him clutch his chest as he dry-heave. It felt like the world was closing in on him and he couldn’t breathe properly. The still ( _dead!)_ face of Elora was nothing but a blur to him.

_ Hey, Five!  _

“No!”

* * *

“Hey, Five!” Luther shouts once again, after knocking on the glass of the van Five is in. He has to be more aggressive when he sees Five starts dry-heaving and clutching on the gearstick. The last shout manages to wake him up from whatever trance he was on. He turns to him, eyes wild, like he had just witnessed a murder.

_Is he okay?_ Luther thinks, quite worried at his little brother. Little? He’s not sure if that’s the right word to describe his brother. For he sure is little in stature but then again, Five has this way of making people small. Even now when Luther was four times bigger than him. Not to mention, he’s mentally fifty eight years old.

The van rocks back and forth as Luther struggles to get into the passenger seat. Five would have laughed at the sight of his difficulty, but he isn’t exactly in the mood for amusement at the moment when he just experienced a flashback to one of the worst memories he ever has. Moreover, he’s currently on a stakeout for a very important mission to save the world from mass-destruction. Once Luther gets himself in the most comfortable he can get inside that van, he turns to Five. “Are you okay?”

_No, I’m not okay._ But he doesn’t need to know that. He’s also not supposed to be here since he will compromise Five’s position, given the fact that he stands out too much with that huge body of his. Besides, he should be at home, finding ways to defrost El.

“You shouldn’t be…” he sighs, cutting himself off. No point in ordering this brute about. Luther will always think that he’s the leader of the Umbrella Academy. Thus, the rest should only listen to him, and not the other way around. He has his head so far up his own ass that he doesn’t see there’s no more the Umbrella Academy. There hasn’t been in a very long time.

“How did you find me?”

Luther was about to answer, when he hears the voice of Klaus flirting with Delores in the back seat. Of course, Delores is put off by his advances, but Klaus is persistent. That really ticks Five off. He shouts at Klaus to get out of the vehicle, even throwing him an empty beer can he found in the van. Of course, Klaus doesn’t comply. In fact, the asshole only gives him a shit-eating grin in return. _Bastard_.

“I’m in a middle of something.”

“Any luck finding your one-eyed man?” Klaus asks, ignoring the glare Five gives him. It was supposed to be a secret, but then again, this is Klaus. Five doesn’t expect much from him.

That of course catches the attention of Luther, who turns to his brother and ask him what did Klaus mean. Five gives him a nonchalant answer, stating that whatever Klaus was talking about doesn’t matter because it’s Klaus anyways, he’s more than likely be talking nonsense given the state of his mind. He turns to Luther, sighing before asking what he wants. A small part of him feels a bit of fear to what Luther may say, for if it’s about El, then there may be a chance something bad is happening to her.

“So, Grace may have had something to do with Dad’s death.” _Oh. That’s what this is about?_ Another one of Luther’s attempts to make a mission out of Dad’s death. This time, he’s blaming Grace? He bets Diego won’t be happy about this. Then again, Luther is out of his mind if he thinks Grace has anything to do with the old man’s death. She’s a robot with no motivation whatsoever for murdering her creator.

“So, I need you to come back to the academy, all right? It’s important.” _There it is_. That tone and that look speak of authority and the demand of obliging. Classic Luther. Good ole _Numero Uno_ , the leader of the Umbrella Academy, who sadly misjudge what’s currently important. Apparently to him, the circumstances of the death of an old sad man is more important than the impending apocalypse. 

“’It’s Important.’ You have no concept of what’s important.” Five scoffs as he voices out his thoughts, to which Luther gives an indignant ‘Hey!’. He’s about to retort back but of course, Klaus finally speaks up, after being ignored for quite a while. He’s talking about the time he got his ass waxed with chocolate pudding. Five can’t help but to let out a smirk, trying to hold his laugh.

“What are you still doing here?” Luther asks him, annoyed at his unhelpful input for the conversation.

“What?” Klaus looks at Luther in dazed puzzlement, “I— What? I need an excuse to hang out with my family?” He gives him a kicked-puppy face, something that works only for El, but the rest of the Umbrella Academy is already immune to his bullshit.

“We’re trying to have a serious conversation.”

“What, and I’m incapable of being serious?” _Yes, Klaus, especially if you’re high_. “Is that what you’re trying to say?” _Yes, Klaus, and wipe that puppy-dog eyes. It won’t work_.

Finally, Five intervenes, siding with Luther and demanding once again for Klaus to get out of the van. Feeling upset that none of his siblings want to spend to time with him, Klaus acquiesces, with indignant “Fine!” as he leaves the van. After he leaves, Luther turns to Five and asks him once again what the hell is he doing, lurking around.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me. Last I checked, I’m still the leader of this family.” _Tch, classic Luther_. This is the second time that thought comes into his mind. Does he really think that he will drop everything and heed to his commands? He’s always had trouble doing so in the past, what makes him think that things have changed now that they’re older.

“Well, last I checked, I’m twenty eights years older than you.” Five says, condescendingly.

Luther gives an indignant look. He’s about to retort but holds himself back. Bingo! Five knows Luther tends to equate authority with age. Probably stems from the type of daddy issue he himself only has. He wants to laugh at the whole thing, but right now isn’t the time for doing so.

“You know what your problem is?”

_Ah, changing the subject, I see._ Alright, Five will humour him this time. “Really hoping you’ll tell me.” he says, sarcastically.

“You think you’re better than us. You always have. Even when we were kids.” _That’s because it’s true, moron._

“But the truth is, you’re just as messed up as the rest of us. We’re all you have. And you know it.”

There is some truth to what Luther said. Yes, it is true that the Umbrella Academy is all he has. He never know anything beyond the Umbrella Academy. The Commission was just a means to an end. He developed no bond or attachment whatsoever during his time as a temporal assassin. Whenever he thought of love, connection, kinship and family, all he ever thought of was the Umbrella Academy. That’s why he spent years trying to go back and save his family, not giving himself a break, even after going back in time. But, he will be insane to say that his siblings are just as messed up as he is. No, Five is more fucked up than the rest of them. He had survived in a post-apocalyptic world, eating scraps and finding charred dead bodies after dead bodies scatter around the place. He lost his wife, so he was left alone for years, went quite crazy from it. And finally, he was experimented on and turned into a killing machine. Did Luther really think that the things he went through with their father were as damaging as the things Five went through? _Absolutely not_.

All of that and Five never really lose himself. He is stronger than them, smarter than them. He always has been, especially after the horror he endured, since his experiences were nothing more than proof of how he’s much better than them. One couldn’t survive all of that if they were as dumb as Luther.

“I don’t think that I’m better than you, _Number One_.” Five mockingly emphasizing on the last one. “I know I am.”

Luther only chuckles in response. The bastard doesn’t even trust him when all he said was the truth. _Complete piece of shit._

“I’ve done unimaginable things, things you couldn’t even comprehend.” What is he doing? He shouldn’t have to explain himself to someone like Luther. The bastard only gives him a scoff anyway, mocking him, not believing anything he says. “Just to get back here and save you all.”

_Oh no._ He was about to go on a rant about the apocalypse. No one knows about this, other than him and Klaus. _Please don’t notice that last part_.

“Well, whatever. Just go back to the house once in a while, okay? I thought you’d spend your time there the most since El’s there.”

At the mention of El, Five looks down, an unreadable expression on his face. “How is she?”

“Still frozen. We’ve tried everything. And yes, I’ve tried punching it. It doesn’t work.”

“Yeah, I know it doesn’t work.”

“How did you—?” Luther was about to ask him how did he know that Luther’s super strength doesn’t work when they see Klaus running out of the store with stolen items.

* * *

**Hargreeves Lab, Unknown Location, July 2013**

The place was as cold as it was five years ago when he came here for the first time. This facility was long abandoned, even before Dad brought Elora’s frozen body into the basement. Why did he put Elora in this place instead of the academy, he didn’t know, but he never want to question his father’s intentions. Whatever his motives were, it would probably be for her own good anyway. Besides, Klaus tended to go back into the house, drunk or high. It would be best if he’s not around Elora. Who knows what he would accidentally do to her frozen body.

After his first visit, Luther wanted to keep going here. Mostly because he no longer had any companion in the academy. Five went missing; Diego, Vanya and Allison moved out sooner after they turned eighteen (Allison’s leaving hurt him the most); Ben’s dead; and Klaus was still around, though he only came to the house when he had nowhere else to be. Even then, he stayed no longer than a day, mostly to avoid getting harsh criticism from Dad. He always tried to tell him to just be decent-looking enough whenever he went home because that way, Dad wouldn’t be on his case all the time. But then again, this was Klaus he was talking about. He’s always been difficult to manage.

The block of ice before him was filled with wires all connected to the huge machine in front of it. He could hear the sound of beeping, indicating there was heartbeat, according to Dad at least. Dad said it was fascinating how Elora seemed to become one with the ice encasing her. As if the ice was helping her communicating to the world that she’s still alive inside.

“Hey, El. It’s me again.” Luther said, as he addressed the frozen girl before him. Nothing had changed, she still looked like the 14-year-old girl he saw before she went ‘missing’.

“Today, I’ll be reading about Shakespeare again. Winter’s Tale.” Luther said, as he took a seat and began opening the book he brought with him. “Oh yeah, better turn on the music. What would you like to hear?”

She gave no answer, obviously. But, he didn’t need to know what she had to say. He knew her favourite songs at the back of his head. He even made a playlist out of them.

“Let’s just hear the whole playlist. Starting with Clair de Lune.”

He didn’t know if speaking to her and putting on her favourite song will do anything to help. It also might be impossible for her to even hear him speak or listen to the songs anyway. But he read somewhere that these are the sort of thing one should do in order to wake up a patient in a comma. He knew that it wasn’t the same, but he hoped he helped her little by little.

And he was lonely, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than I expected. 
> 
> I think Five knew about paradox psychosis during his time with the Commission. So, when he was with El, all he knew was that something bad will happen if there are two of the same person in one timeline. Truthfully, I’m still clueless to how time travel works in the Umbrella Academy Universe. Are there multiple timelines? Shouldn’t there be only one as the Commission’s job was to make sure everything happen as they were supposed to? Does Five exist outside of the timeline like the Commission? But then again, how come in the second season, Five was able to meet up with his past(?) self? I am confusion. 
> 
> I really enjoy classical music but only the most basic ones. So sorry for this. 
> 
> Did you enjoy that? Hopefully you do. English is my second language so please excuse the grammatical errors.


End file.
